PHILIP DE LA NOYE.
"'T is a year agone to-day since we in the Mayflower sighted land in
this place," said Bradford to Standish, as the two stood beside the gun
just fired for sunset when all obligatory labor ended in the village.
"Ay, is it so? Well, it hath been a year of note in more ways than one,
and the next is like to be as adventurous. Ha! Look you there, Bradford!
Dost see that Indian runner breasting the hill. Some great news,
surely,--come, let us go to meet him."
"Squanto is before us. See him leap the brook"--
But Standish was already half way down the hill, and presently in the
open space already spoken of as the Town Square he and two or three of
the other leaders met the runner, who escorted by Squanto came panting
up the hill from the brook, and after the usual salutations informed the
governor that he was sent from Aspinet, sachem of the Nausets, to inform
the white men that a vessel had been watched feeling her way through the
shoals around Cape Cod, and was now laying her course apparently for
Plymouth. Not knowing whether this might be good or bad news, the sachem
had felt it a friendly act to convey it to his new allies with the
greatest possible dispatch.
"And he did well, and both he and thou shall see that we are not
ungrateful," replied Bradford courteously. "Tisquantum, take this man
to the Common house, and see that he is suitably refreshed. And now,
brethren, what meaneth this? Is it indeed good news or bad?"
"Bad," replied Standish promptly. "For well do we know that no relief
was to be sent us until our friends the traders had seen the first
fruits of their Adventure, and as we perforce sent home the Mayflower
empty, I for one expect to hear no more from Cheapside unless it be a
rating."
"There hath not been time for the Mayflower to go and return, were our
friends never so willing to aid us," suggested the elder pacifically.
"Then what think you, men?" persisted Bradford. "Allerton, Winslow,
Warren, what say ye all?"
"We know that the French are at war with England," suggested Winslow.
"And this may be a privateer coming to harry the settlement."
"In that case it were well to hide whatever we have of value and retreat
to the woods with the women and children," said Allerton turning pale.
"And leave our housen, and the Fort and its armament, and our boats!"
exclaimed Standish contemptuously. "Nay, Governor, my counsel is that we
at once arm ourselves, train what guns we can upon the offing, and if
these indeed be buccaneers, French, Spanish, or Turks, receive them with
a volley that shall leave little work for a second one. The women and
children may retreat to the woods, and he who has any pots, or cups, or
pans of value may bury them an' he chooses. My best treasures are Gideon
and my snaphance, and I cannot spare them so long as I live to wield
them."
"That's the chat that suits me, neighbor," declared Hopkins in his
usual rough, hearty fashion, while Allerton, an unwonted tinge of color
upon his sallow cheek, hastened to avow himself as ready for fighting as
any man since fighting was decided to be the best policy.
And now Standish assumed control of the occasion and showed himself in
his most becoming attitude. His quick eyes and ready hands were
everywhere, and the somewhat sharp and terse military orders that
sometimes had seemed a thought arbitrary now carried assurance in their
tone, and strengthened the hearts of some and supported the
determination of others, who left to themselves would have scattered
like sheep without a leader.
"Let each man arm and harness himself and report for inspection in the
Town Square," was the first order, and while it was obeyed the Captain
climbed the hill carrying the "perspective glass" made by Galileo
himself during his exile in Holland, and brought to the new world by
Governor Carver, whose widow bequeathed it to the colony as one of its
chief treasures.
He was followed by William Trevor, one of the seamen hired by the colony
for a year, a fellow of quick eyesight and undaunted courage. The
Captain silently and carefully adjusted his lenses, and then handed the
glass to Trevor.
"Now you, Bill, clap your eye to that and get it on yon headland,
Farther Manomet, d' ye see?"
"Ay, Captain, I have it, and can count the squirrels on the tree tops."
"Canst tell a ship's topmast from a squirrel if one should heave in
sight?"
"Mayhap I could, master."
"Well, then, watch for it, and so soon as any craft of any color, be it
one of your squirrels on a chip, an Indian in a canoe, or a French
man-of-war, send this boy Cooke tumbling down the hill to bring the
news. Now, man, show thy discretion and thy wit."
"Ay, ay, Captain, you may trust Bill Trevor for a keen lookout. When I
sailed aboard a whaler"--
But already the Captain was out of hearing, and presently was inspecting
his little army, mustered in the Town Square, each man armed and
armored.
Drawn up in two ranks the twenty men presented a striking array, for in
the forefront stood the governor, the elder, the surgeon, Winslow,
Allerton, Warren, Hopkins, Howland, Alden, and Peter Browne, ancestor of
John Brown of Ossawatomie; while the file closers, if not men of equal
note in affairs, were each one a sturdy and determined Englishman, ready
to fight till the death and never guess that he could be conquered.
The inspection over, the train band was dismissed with orders to stand
ready to reassemble at a moment's warning, and meantime to make such
dispositions of private property as seemed good to each man.
Hardly was this order obeyed when from the Fort came Trevor's sonorous
hail,--
"Sail ho!" and presently young Cooke came pelting down the hill
reporting with a military salute to the captain.
"Trevor saith, sir, that a ship of not over sixty ton is drawing around
Manomet, and that she flieth no colors as yet."
"Ha! Let us see then, let us see!" cried the captain, and two minutes
later was at the top of the hill, glass in hand.
"Hm! Square rigged, slender built--what say you, Trevor, is she a
Frenchman?"
"More like a Dutchman to my mind, sir."
"Ah, then were we all right, and with a goodly new store of schnapps to
comfort our souls, but my mind misdoubts me. Now let us see if we can
train this saker to command the offing. Boy, run down the hill and fetch
Billington and Master Hopkins. 'T will do no harm, and may--ay, this
minion will sweep the Rock like a new broom. Here, Billington, come on
man and lend me thy bull's neck and shoulders. I would shift the
carriage of this saker. Ho, Hopkins, give us a little help here. There
yeo-ho, men! Again, now then--yeo-ho! Now we have it, now! There, settle
her in place, that's it, there! Now then, Trevor, how about the
Frenchman?"
"She is laying her course for this harbor, Captain. You may see her
without the glass well enow, for she's going about to fetch Beach
Point."
"Is tide high enow to carry her over Brown's Islands, as Champlain
calleth the outer flats?" asked Hopkins, who by fits liked to appear
erudite.
"Ay, 't is full water at noon to-day," replied Trevor, his eye glued to
the glass.
"Now then, now then, here she is making straight into the harbor,"
exclaimed Standish excitedly, and plunging down the hill followed by the
rest, he made signal to Bart Allerton standing expectant at his own door
to sound the "assembly" upon the trumpet which he had learned to manage
with great precision.
Ten minutes later the whole array of fighting men stood steady in their
ranks, with the larger boys hanging in the rear, each carrying a spare
gun, or some other weapon, and all eyes fixed upon the point where the
stranger would appear as she beat her way into the harbor.
Suddenly the captain waved his hand above his head, glancing up at the
Fort where, under the folds of the British standard, stood Trevor,
linstock in hand. Another moment, and out from the hoarse throat of the
saker roared a defiant peal echoing grandly from hill to hill, startling
the savages who covertly watched the arrival of new foes or new friends
as the case might be, and rolling ominously across the waters of the
harbor to demand the name of the intruder.
"They be busy with their ancient-staff," reported Trevor presently, as
he resumed the spy-glass. "There goes the bunting--ha--ay--run boy, and
tell the captain 't is the red cross of Merrie England; 't is the home
colors, boy!"
But already the eager eyes in the Town Square had recognized the flag,
and Standish lapsing from the martinet into the exile waved Gideon above
his head shouting,--
"'T is our own flag, men; 't is the red cross of Old England! Three
cheers boys, three cheers for the dear old flag! Now then!"
And the glad shout arose, and again and again, not only from the bearded
throats of men, but in the shrill treble of boys, and the dainty voices
of girls, who just out of sight watched as women do, when life and honor
hang in the balance.
"Oh Mary, Mary maid, why art thou crying! Silly wench"--
"Nay, but thou 'rt crying thyself, Priscilla! Nay, now thou 'rt
laughing!"
"To think how John Alden turned white as any maid when the good news
came!" sobbed Priscilla running in to fling her arms around Dame
Brewster, who sat with folded hands and rapt face praying to the God of
battles.
"Oh mother, mother, they all are safe, and 't is an English ship.
Belike, Fear and Patience and their brother are aboard."
"Nay, dear maid, nay, be not so carried away. If indeed God sendeth my
children"--
But the mere thought of such joy was too much for the self-control the
poor mother so struggled for, and when the elder hastened into the house
he found his wife weeping for joy upon Priscilla's heaving breast.
"Nay then, wife, nay then, doest thou well?--and yet mine own eyes might
but too easily rain with gratitude. Dame, wife I say, nay then--let us
pray that in all things His will be done."
And in less than an hour Mary Brewster was sobbing afresh in the
stalwart embrace of her eldest son Jonathan, a young fellow of
five-and-thirty, who full of health and courage was come to be the staff
of her old age, and to bring news of the fair sisters who would come
anon.
For this was the Fortune, a little ship of fifty-five tons, dispatched
by the Adventurers in London to carry over some of the colonists
disappointed of a passage in the Mayflower, but principally to convey
Robert Cushman, who came pledged to obtain the consent of the Pilgrims
to a contract more favorable to their English friends than that they
were disposed to undertake. With him came his son Thomas, a boy of
fourteen, whom his father upon his hasty return in the Fortune left
behind under charge of the governor, to whom he subsequently wrote, "I
pray you care for my son as for your own;" and so well did Bradford
train the boy soon orphaned and left entirely to his charge, that
Thomas Cushman became successor of William Brewster as Ruling Elder of
the Pilgrim Church, and now lies on Burying Hill beneath a goodly
monument erected by his numerous descendants.
But little on that bleak November day recked the boy of future honors or
proud posterities, for he and his friend Thomas Prence, future governor
of the colony, but then a merry youth of nineteen, were hand and glove
with a gay company of lads and young men who had accepted the adventure
of Pilgrimage as they would have sailed with Drake, or Hawkins, or
Captain Cooke,--any leader who promised novelty, excitement, and the
chance of hard knocks and treasure.
So little responsible for their own welfare were many of these younkers
that, although fairly fitted out for the voyage, they had while
weather-bound in the British Channel gone ashore at Old Plymouth and
"brushed away" even their cloaks and extra doublets, in some cases their
very bedding and such cooking utensils as passengers were then expected
to provide themselves with. So far from bringing fresh supplies of food
to the colony, these runagates had devoured perforce the provisions that
should have victualed the Fortune on her return voyage, and the
colonists were forced for humanity's sake, to supply her out of their
own scanty stock.
Among these young fellows was a slight, dark-eyed lad of about nineteen,
who so soon as he had landed asked for the Demoiselle Molines.
"Priscilla Molines? Dost thou know her then?" inquired Alden who heard
the question, although addressed to Billington, who only grinned at the
lad's French accent and made no reply.
"Certainly, yes. My sister is of her closest friends."
"Ay? Is thy name De la Noye?"
"Truly!" exclaimed the boy, his face lighting vivaciously. "I am Philip
de la Noye."
"Hm, and your brother Jacques--is he in the company, or coming in the
next ship?" asked Alden grimly; but at that moment Priscilla coming
swiftly forward, held out both hands to the new-comer exclaiming
joyously in French,--
"Philip, dear lad! Glad am I to see thee."
"She will have news now from her lover," muttered Alden bitterly, but
just then the captain hailed,--
"Here Jack, put thy long legs and brawny thews to service in bringing
some of these budgets up the hill. Here's a poor soul with three little
children tugging at her skirts and she a widow, and fit to be put to bed
herself."
"I'll help her up the hill, Captain," interposed Peter Browne hastily,
and as he carefully aided the Widow Ford to climb the steep ascent some
sprite might have whispered in his ear that this was his own future
wife. That night was born Martha Ford, who should from similarity of
history have married Peregrine White, but who instead wedded William
Nelson.
Not until the last bale or packet unloaded from the Fortune had been
disposed of in the Common storehouse, or in some one of the houses all
hospitably thrown open to the new-comers, did John Alden cease his
labors or exchange more than a brief word with those about him, until at
last Bradford cheerily declared labor over for the day and added,--
"Come friends to my house, and hear what Master Cushman will have to
tell us of affairs in the old home. Come Alden, and reward thy labors
with a good flagon of beer."
Muttering some reply, the young man followed the rest up Leyden Street,
but as they reached the governor's house, a somewhat larger and more
important cabin than the rest, he passed quickly on and up the hill.
Pausing but a moment at the Fort, he struck down the steep southerly
side to the brook, and having performed his simple toilet strode moodily
on toward the forest, but had only gone a few rods when a familiar voice
called his name, and turning he saw Priscilla with Mary Chilton and the
young Frenchman, to whom they seemed to be showing the brook and its
springs of "delicate water."
Very reluctantly Alden turned and moved toward them.
"Did you speak, Mistress Mary?" inquired he as the party approached.
"I--I," stammered Mary blushing vividly.
"It was I who bade her do so," interposed Priscilla with an impatient
glance at the English girl whose honesty had spoiled her little finesse.
"We thought you looked but dull, and I would fain bring my new-arrived
friend Philip De la Noye to your acquaintance."
The two men exchanged salutations, Philip with the ready grace of a
Latin, John with that distinguishing a Saxon, especially if displeased.
"We are strolling about a bit before making ready for supper," added
Priscilla. "Philip is curious as to our manner of life in these wilds."
"'T is but ill suited to slender folk," replied Alden glancing
superciliously at the slight stripling, who, for his part, surveyed with
a sort of amused wonder the thews and stature of the young giant
striding sullenly at Priscilla's other hand.
"Nay, we do not pack diamonds in bales like hay," retorted Priscilla
stingingly, and then turning to Philip she inquired eagerly,--
"And Jacques and Guillaume are well, quite, quite well, are they?"
"Yes, and Marie and Jeanne," replied Philip placidly.
"And have you news from friends at home, Mary?" asked John decidedly
moving to her side.
"Nay, there are none left there of my nearest kin," replied the girl
sadly. "We came all of us together, and only I am left."
"Nay, Mary, so fair and so good a maid as thou, will never stay long
without friends. Thou wouldst never flout an honest fellow's love and
draw him on, and turn him back, and use him worse than a baby doth its
puppet. The man who loves thee will never rue it."
So meaning were his glances and his tone, that for a moment the simple
maid stood aghast. Could it be that Alden's constancy had given out, and
he was now ready to woo her instead of her friend; but in another moment
the truth dawned upon her, and with more diplomacy than she often showed
Mary smiled and shook her head.
"I know not, for love and sweethearts have not come my way yet. 'T is
Priscilla whom all men seek, and she in merry mood listeth to all and
still keepeth her own mind secret. She is well content to-night, for
this lad hath brought news of his brother's marriage."
"What, the fellow they call Jacques?" demanded John glancing eagerly
toward the other couple now walking some paces in advance.
"Ay, and Guillaume is betrothed, and Jeanne. They are dear friends of
our Priscilla."
"But--but--nay, then, maid Mary, have compassion on a poor stupid oaf
who is no match for her or you or any woman in subtlety and fence, and
yet loveth yon maid as it is not well for man to love aught but his
Maker. Tell me, doth she care aught for me?"
"Nay, John, that is a question none but she should answer, but yet I may
tell thee thus much. The news she hath to-day may embolden thee to ask
again."
"Good wench, true friend!" exclaimed Alden, his whole face lighting with
a new hope. "And now as we turn toward home, if thou wouldst but engage
yon boy's attention, and let me essay while hope is strong and courage
fresh, I will put my fate once more to the touch and know if joy and I
are henceforth partners, or the coldest of strangers."
"Ah, lad, thou lovest her overmuch," replied Mary, letting her placid
blue eyes rest upon him half curiously, half enviously. "No man will
ever care for me like that, for I have not the skill to hide my mind as
Priscilla hath. But I'll help thee, John, for I do believe thou 'lt make
the dear maid happy if she will but stay in one mind long enough to wed
thee."
And in a few moments when the setting sun warned Priscilla that it was
time to turn homeward, and the two parties came together, Mary showed
Philip De la Noye the strawberry plants of which he had asked, and so
detained him for a moment, while John walking on with Priscilla
impatiently began,--
"Wilt answer me one little question in good faith, mistress?"
"In good faith if at all, John."
"Then, what bond is there betwixt thee and this lad's brother Jacques?"
"None save good will and old acquaintance."
"But there was."
"Was there?"
"Nay now, Priscilla, I speak to thee in sober sadness, and I ask such
reply as honest maid should give to honest man who woos her for his
wife. If we fall to quips and cranks and wordy play, thou 'rt so far out
of my reach that I know not if I ever come near thee, for I'm but a
plain simple fellow, Priscilla, and I love thee more than I love aught
else but God and the truth. Give me now a plain answer and have pity of
my misery. Has aught of this lad's news changed thy will or thy intent
toward me?"
And Priscilla moving slowly along beside her wooer shot a rapid sidelong
glance at his white face, and for the first time in their acquaintance
felt a thrill of respect akin to fear, sweep in his direction across her
gay self-assertive nature.
"Yes, John, I will answer thee truly and soberly," replied she in a
voice he had never heard from her before. "Philip De la Noye hath
brought news that sets me free from a teasing obligation of which no man
knows. Marie and Jeanne, his sisters, are my dear friends and gossips,
and their brother Jacques would fain have been my bachelor in Leyden,
but I was too young my father said to listen to such talk, and he cared
not greatly for Jacques, who was to tell truth somewhat gay and debonair
of temper, and no church member, no, not he. So when we parted from
Leyden to come hither, and I went to bid good-by to my friends, James,
as you call him in English, would fain have me promise to wed no man but
him, and he would come hither so soon as he was his own master."
"And didst promise, Priscilla?"
"Well, nay and yea, John. I said I knew not what might meet me here,
and--but at long and at last I promised to wait until the first ship had
followed us, and if Jacques came in her I would--would listen to him
again."
"And that was all thy promise, maiden?"
"Ay, and enough, for before we landed on yonder Rock, and 't was Mary
Chilton and not thee, John, who first skipt ashore"--
"Oh, mind not that just now, Priscilla."
"Well, before I myself came ashore I knew that I cared not for Jacques
De la Noye. Beside the deathbed of my mother, and again by that of my
brother, I knew that life was darker and deeper than he could fathom."
"Ay, maid, and nobly didst thou bear that sorry load of woe and care."
Priscilla's color rose, and her dark eyes flashed a message of thanks,
but without other reply she went steadily on,--
"And so soon as Philip saw me, he delivered himself of the news that
Jacques, some three months since, was wed at Saint Peter's Church to
Gertrude Bartholmei, a merry Flemish maid, who ever looked kindly on
him, and now is welcome to him."
"Say you that honestly, Priscilla?"
"As honestly as thyself could speak, lad."
"And thou 'rt heart-whole?"
"Nay, I said not exactly that."
"What! Dost really care for the captain?"
"As I care for the governor and the doctor; no more, no less."
"Priscilla, wilt be my wife?"
"Nay then, John, why didst not ask that at first rather than at last?
Thou 'rt too fond of quip and quirk and wordy warfare, John, too much
given to fence and intrigue."
"I, Priscilla! Nay then, I'll not be turned aside again, try as thou
wilt. Priscilla, wilt be my wife?"
"Nay then, I never could bear a cuckoo song all on two notes, and if
thou 'rt bound to say that phrase over and over till 't is answered"--
"'T is just what I am bound to do. Priscilla, wilt be my wife?"
"Yes, John, I will, and now I hope thou 'rt content."
"Wait till I see thee alone this evening, and I'll tell thee how
content. Oh, maiden"--
"I will wait in what patience I may until that threatened evening hour,"
interrupted Priscilla as restively as the young colt who, after long
coquetting, at last feels the bridle slipped over his head. "Mary, an'
thou hasten not there'll be little done toward supper at supper time.
Desire is naught and less than naught now that she's going home, and
Bessy Tilley thinketh only of John Howland, and the dear mother hath her
son, so who is left but thee and me to do a hand's turn."
"Here am I, Priscilla, and I'll help thee in any way thou 'lt say,"
suggested John Alden a little presuming upon his recent acceptance, and
for his pains receiving a snub that made him wince again, for Priscilla
coldly replied,--
"They say they came nigh bringing a Jack in the Fortune, but had no room
for him; so thou mayst take his place, and fetch me a bucket of water
from the spring. There's no mighty difference betwixt Jack and John."