_Removal to Duxbury._
Friendship Between Captain Standish and Mr. Brewster.--Character
of Mr. Brewster.--His Death and Burial.--Mode of Worship.--
Captain’s Hill.--Difficulty with the Narragansets.--Firmness
and Conciliation.--Terms of Peace.--Plans for Removal from
Plymouth.--Captain Standish’s Home in Duxbury.--Present Aspect
of the Region.
It is greatly to the credit of Captain Miles Standish, the puritan
soldier, that his life-long friend was William Brewster, the puritan
divine. Their farms in Duxbury were side by side. The scene upon which
this noble Christian man looked, in the evening of his eventful life,
must have been one full of peaceful beauty, as he stood, staff in hand,
upon the threshold of his lowly, yet comfortable cottage. His peaceful
home was situated about three miles across the bay from the village of
Plymouth. By land it was a roundabout route of nearly eight miles. His
farm was on a picturesque peninsula shooting out southerly into the
placid waters of Plymouth Bay. In his life of fourscore years and four,
he had witnessed the long reigns of three of the most remarkable of the
English sovereigns.
The days of his early manhood were passed through scenes of
persecution and suffering, whose vicissitudes were painful and
agitating in the extreme. His mental energies had been strengthened
by the discipline of adversity and severe afflictions. As an exile,
he had encountered poverty and had been exposed to the most severe
deprivations and toils. He had landed, with a feeble band, in this
New World when it was but a howling wilderness, and where the utmost
courage and prudence were requisite, to save the little colony from
utter extinction by a savage foe.
He had lived to see the colony securely established, to see the Indians
to a very great degree conciliated, and not a few of them brought
under the influence of Christian example and instruction. From one
little settlement, of seven log huts, he had seen others springing
up all around, till eight flourishing towns were established, with
eight churches, under eight pastors. He had seen the colony reduced
to but fifty souls, men, women and children. And, ere he died, the
census reported a population of eight thousand, with a well-defined
government, a free constitution and established laws. Infant colonies
were rising in various points to a vigorous manhood, and were uniting
in a confederacy, already sufficiently powerful to repel all native
foes, and which gave promise of being able, ere long, to maintain
independence against the machinations of all foreign enemies.
A system of common schools was established, which even then was the
glory of New England. Harvard University, modelled after the renowned
university of Cambridge in England, was already beginning to train
young men for the highest offices in the church and the state. Thus
freedom, education and religion were walking hand in hand. In the
retrospect of his path through life, this thoughtful, devout and
hopeful man could contemplate the stern conflicts, the cruel errors,
and the heroic deeds of one of the most important eras in the world’s
history. Though he had sown in tears, he could hopefully look forward
to the time when his children, and his children’s children should reap
in joy. In speaking of the death of this eminent man, Governor Bradford
writes, under date of the year 1643:[49]
“I am to begin this year with that which was a matter of great
sadness and mourning unto them all. About the 18th of April died
their reverend elder, and my dear and loving friend, Mr. William
Brewster, a man who had done and suffered much for the Lord Jesus and
the gospel’s sake, and had borne his part in weal and woe with this
poor persecuted church above thirty-six years in England, Holland,
and in this wilderness, and done the Lord and them faithful service
in his place and calling. And notwithstanding the many troubles and
sorrows he passed through, the Lord upheld him to a great age. He was
near fourscore years of age, if not all out, when he died.[50] He had
this blessing added by the Lord to all the rest, to die in his bed, in
peace among the midst of his friends, who mourned and wept over him,
and ministered what help and comfort they could unto him, and he again
recomforted them while he could.
“His sickness was not long, and till the last day thereof, he did not
wholly keep his bed. His speech continued till somewhat more than half
a day, and then failed him. About nine or ten o’clock that evening he
died, without any pangs at all. A few hours before his death he drew
his breath short, and some few minutes before his last he drew his
breath long, as a man falling into a sound sleep, without any pangs or
gaspings, and so sweetly departed this life unto a better. I would now
demand of any, what was he the worse for any former sufferings? What do
I say--worse? Nay, sure he was the better, and they now added to his
honor. ‘It is a manifest token,’ saith the apostle, ‘of the righteous
judgment of God, that ye may be accounted worthy of the kingdom of
God, for which ye also suffer; seeing it is a righteous thing with
God to recompense tribulation to them that trouble you; and to you
who are troubled, rest with us when the Lord Jesus shall be revealed
from heaven with his mighty angels.’ What though he wanted the riches
and pleasures of the world in this life, and pompous monuments at his
funeral, yet the just shall be blessed, when the name of the wicked
shall rot, with their marble monuments.”
A very pleasing account is given by Prince, of the mode in which public
worship was conducted by these Christians, who were anxious in all
things to be conformed to the habits of the disciples in apostolic
days. The customs they observed have been transmitted to the present
times in our meetings for conference and prayer. On Thursday, the 25th
of October, 1632, Governor Winthrop, with Mr. Wilson, who was pastor
of the church in Boston, with several other Christian friends, made a
visit to Plymouth. They were received with great hospitality. Governor
Bradford, Rev. Mr. Brewster, the ruling elder, and several others of
the prominent men of Plymouth, came some distance out from the village
to meet their friends, who probably travelled on foot. They were
conducted to the house of Governor Bradford, where most of them were
entertained during their stay. They were, however, every day invited
to dinner parties at the houses of the more opulent of the villagers.
On Sunday the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was administered, in
the morning. The service occupied the whole time. In the afternoon
devotions, the service was opened by Mr. Roger Williams, who propounded
a question of theology, or of conscience, upon which he made sundry
remarks. Rev. Mr. Smith, pastor of the Boston church, then spoke
briefly upon the subject. Mr. Williams again spoke, quoting freely
from the Bible in explanation of the question which he had proposed.
Then Governor Bradford, who had studied Hebrew, and was familiar with
all scriptural antiquities, expressed his views upon the subject. He
was followed by Elder Brewster. His reputation, as a man of profound
learning, caused all to listen attentively when he spake. Then, by
special invitation from the Elder, Governor Winthrop spoke upon the
question, followed by Mr. Wilson, pastor of the church in Boston.
Deacon Fuller, who was also the physician of the colony at Plymouth,
then called for the contribution for the support of public worship and
of the poor. The Governor, and all the rest of the congregation rose
from their seats and went to the deacon’s seat to deposit their gifts.
The exercises were closed with the benediction.
This peculiarity of having various members of the church speak in
public worship, one after another, they brought with them from Holland,
such having been the practice adopted by Rev. Mr. Robinson, founded
on the primitive practice of the church at Corinth, as recorded by
St. Paul, in chapter xiii. of the Acts, 14th and 15th verses. But, as
the community advanced in intelligence, it was found that study was
essential to the teacher who, Sabbath after Sabbath, would interest
a congregation. It was also remembered that such a practice was
peculiarly adapted to the age of inspiration which had passed away.
Thus the practice was gradually laid aside for the mode of worship now
adopted by all the churches descended from the Puritans. The highly
educated preacher, in the stated services of the sanctuary, brings
from his treasury things new and old for the benefit of the church and
congregation. But in frequent meetings for conference and prayer, all
the brethren of the church have an opportunity of expressing their
views upon all questions of faith and practice.
There was probably no more sincere mourner, at the grave of Elder
Brewster, than his life-long companion and friend, Captain Miles
Standish. As we have mentioned, their farms in Duxbury were side by
side. They had gathered around them several men of congenial spirit,
among whom we find the name of John Alden. From whatever direction
one approaches the homes of these illustrious men, he sees looming up
before him the remarkable eminence known as “Captain’s Hill.” It is an
oval-shaped mound, rising to the height of about one hundred and eighty
feet. This hill was on the farm of Captain Standish. From its summit,
scenery of landscape and water was presented, in a calm summer’s day,
such as can scarcely be surpassed in beauty in any country.
In a clear atmosphere one can discern, in the far distance of the
eastern horizon, over the bay, the outline of the sand-hills of Cape
Cod, with its sickle bend forming in the extreme north the harbor
where the Mayflower first cast anchor; and where for five long weeks
their shattered bark rested while the Pilgrims were in vain seeking
for a home. Almost at one’s feet is to be seen the whole expanse of
Plymouth Bay, with the entrance through which their storm-shattered
shallop passed through the foaming breakers on either side. There was
then no light-house on Gurnet’s Point to guide their endangered keel.
Just before you is Clark’s Isle, under whose lee, in the midnight
tempest, the Pilgrims found shelter, when every moment in danger of
being submerged by the waves; and where they passed the ever-memorable
Sabbath.
From the summit of the hill, all the land to the south belonged to
Captain Standish. On the east, spreading out to the water’s edge,
including what is called the Nook, were the acres allotted to Elder
Brewster. Near the site of the humble house which he reared and
occupied, are still to be seen the gray and decaying remains of a
farm-house, and its outbuildings, erected by some one of his immediate
successors. It was from this spot that the remains of the Elder were
conveyed, in long procession winding around the western shore of the
bay, to their final resting-place on Burial Hill.
It was in the midst of these peaceful scenes that Captain Miles
Standish passed the evening of his days, mainly engaged in agricultural
pursuits. But whenever serious trouble came, his energies were
immediately called into requisition.
When the English commenced their settlements on Connecticut River,
Uncas, sachem of the Mohegan Indians, acknowledged a sort of feudal
submission to Sassacus, the powerful chief of the Pequot tribe. This
chieftain had, as we have mentioned, twenty-six minor sachems, who
paid him feudal homage. Uncas was a very ambitious, energetic man, and
he was gradually bringing minor tribes under his sway. His territory
was situated east of the Connecticut River and north of New London,
Stonington and Norwich. Uncas, though a friend of the white men,
was bitterly hostile to the introduction of Christianity among the
Indians. Some occasion of war arose between the Narragansets and the
Mohegans, and a very large force of the former fell upon Uncas, and
slew a large number of his men, while they wounded more. This was in
the year 1645, two years after the death of Elder Brewster. Many of the
Narragansets had obtained muskets. Being superior in numbers to the
Mohegans, and more powerfully armed, they gained an easy victory.
The English were not willing to see their friend and ally thus
destroyed. They were bound by treaty to defend him, and sent to the
Narragansets a remonstrance. The Narragansets, having engaged the
co-operation of the Mohawks, and flushed with victory, returned an
insulting and defiant answer. The Connecticut colonists immediately
despatched forty well-armed men, for the protection of their ally,
while commissioners from the several English colonies met, at Boston,
to decide upon what further measures to adopt. Three messengers were
sent to the Narragansets and to the Mohegans, calling upon both
parties to appoint commissioners to confer with the English upon the
points in dispute, and thus to settle the question by diplomacy and
not by butchery. If the Narragansets refused to accede this proposal,
which they were bound, by previous treaty, to respect, they were
to be informed that the English had already sent forty armed men to
Uncas, and a definite answer was demanded to the question whether they
intended to abide by the treaty of peace, into which they had entered
with the English, or whether they intended to make war upon them also.
To this perfectly just and friendly message, the Narragansets returned
again a contemptuous and threatening reply. At the same time Roger
Williams, who dwelt in the near vicinity, almost in the midst of the
Narragansets, and who was familiar with all their operations, wrote to
the Governors of Plymouth and of Massachusetts, stating that the war
would soon break out far and wide, with great violence, and the whole
country would be in flames. This was alarming tidings to the English.
By the arts of peace alone could they be enriched, and for peace and
friendship their hearts yearned.
The Narragansets were not far from Plymouth. The fiend-like warfare
of the savages, with their hideous yells, tomahawks and firebrands,
would first fall upon the scattered farm-houses of that colony. An
immediate convention was called of the magistrates, elders and chief
military commanders of the Massachusetts and Plymouth colonies. They
came unanimously to the following decisions, That they were bound,
by treaty, to aid and defend Uncas; that this aid was not intended
merely to defend him in his fort, or when attacked in his dwelling,
but also to enable him to preserve his liberty and his estates; that
this aid must be immediately furnished or Uncas would be overwhelmed
and ruined by his enemies; that the war against the Narragansets being
so manifestly just, the reasons for it ought to be proclaimed to the
world; that a day of humiliation and prayer should be appointed to
implore the Divine guidance and blessing; that three hundred men should
be immediately sent to the aid of Uncas, of which Massachusetts should
furnish one hundred and ninety, Plymouth forty, Connecticut forty, and
New Haven thirty; that, considering the immediate danger of Uncas,
forty men should be instantly sent to his succor from Massachusetts.
In accordance with the promptness which has ever characterized the
Massachusetts colony, scarcely an hour elapsed, after the tidings
reached Boston, ere the men were on the march. Governor Bradford,
speaking of the insolent tone adopted by the Narragansets, writes,
“They received the English commissioners with scorn and contempt, and
told them that they would have no peace with Uncas without his head.
They also gave them this further answer,--that it mattered not who
began the war, they were resolved to follow it up, and that the English
should withdraw their garrison from Uncas, or they would bring down
the Mohawks upon them. And withal they gave them this threatening
answer, that they would lay the English cattle on heaps as high as
their houses, and that no Englishman should step out of his door but
that he should be shot.”
The English commissioners needed guides to lead them through the
wilderness of the Narraganset country, to communicate the reply of the
Narraganset chiefs to Uncas. They refused to furnish them with any
guide. At last, in scorn they brought forward a poor, old, decrepit
Pequot woman saying, with derisive laughter, that they might take her
if they pleased. In addition to all these indignities the commissioners
were seriously menaced with personal violence. As their interpreter was
communicating his message to the sachems, three burly savages came and
stood behind him, brandishing their tomahawks in the most insulting
and threatening manner. The friendly Indians, who had accompanied the
English, were so alarmed by this conduct of the Narragansets that they
fled in the utmost haste, leaving the commissioners to go home alone.
“Thus,” writes Governor Bradford, “while the commissioners in care of
the public peace sought to quench the fire kindled among the Indians,
these children of strife breathe out threatenings, provocation and war
against the English themselves. So that unless they should dishonor and
provoke God by violating a just engagement, and expose the colonies
to contempt and danger from the barbarians, they cannot but exercise
force, when no other means will prevail to reduce the Narragansets and
their confederates to a more just and sober temper.”
The Plymouth colonists were as prompt in action as those of
Massachusetts. Captain Miles Standish was of course placed at the head
of the command. With rapid steps his little army of forty men traversed
the forest to the appointed rendezvous at Seekonk, now Rehoboth. Having
a much shorter journey to take, he was encamped upon the spot before
the Massachusetts men reached it. The Connecticut and New Haven forces
also soon arrived. Quite a large number of friendly Indian warriors
also joined them. They were armed with muskets, and placed under the
command of Captain Standish.
All these measures were adopted with the greatest energy and
promptness. The sachem of the Narragansets had, a short time before,
sent a present to the Governor of Massachusetts. It was intended
either to blind him as to their hostile designs, or to bribe him not
to interpose in behalf of the Mohegans. But the Governor was not thus
to be duped. He frankly informed the messenger that he was not fully
satisfied respecting the friendly intentions of the sachem of the
Narragansets,--that he could not, therefore, immediately accept the
present. He would not however refuse it, but would lay it aside to wait
the developments of the future.
The military bands being now all assembled at Rehoboth and ready
to march into the territory of the Narragansets, the Governor of
Massachusetts, before commencing hostilities, sent two commissioners,
with an interpreter, to return the present to the Narraganset sachem,
and to inform him that he had already sent forty men for the protection
of Uncas, and that another armed force was on the march to defend him.
They were also directed to inform the Narraganset sachem that the
English troops had express orders to stand only upon his and their own
defence; that they should make no attempt to invade the Narraganset
country; and that if the sachem would make reparation for the wrongs
which he had already inflicted upon the Mohegans, and would give
security for his peaceful conduct in future, he would find that the
English were as desirous of peace, and as reluctant to shed Narraganset
blood, as they ever had been. In conclusion, this messenger, seeking
only peace, said:
“If, therefore, Pessecus and Innemo, with the other sachems, will,
without further delay, come to Boston, they shall have free liberty
to come and return without molestation, or any just grievance from
the English. But deputies will not now serve; nor may the preparations
in hand be now stayed, or the directions given recalled, till the
forementioned sagamores come, and some further order be taken. But if
the Narragansets will have nothing but war, the English are providing
for it, and will proceed accordingly.”
These wise measures accomplished the desired results. The Narraganset
sachems had sufficient intelligence to perceive that they were arraying
against themselves forces which they were but poorly able to withstand.
Three of their most prominent chiefs, with a large array of warriors,
after a few days visited Boston, and entered into a treaty of peace.
The Indians agreed to pay to Massachusetts two thousand fathoms of good
white wampum, in payments extending through two years; to restore to
Uncas all the captives, men, women and children they had taken, and
all the canoes, and to pay in full for the corn they had destroyed
or carried away. They also agreed to meet the commissioners from the
several colonies at New Haven, and submit to their arbitration those
grievances which would otherwise result in war. There were one or two
other articles in the treaty of a similar nature. Four children of the
sachems were, within fourteen days, to be surrendered as hostages
to the English, to be tenderly cared for by them, until the terms of
the treaty should be fulfilled. Thus happily this menace of war was
dispelled.
A little while before the events which we have above recorded, a
serious design was entertained of abandoning the location at Plymouth
and removing to some place where they would find richer soil. Not
only was the soil at Plymouth so barren that it would scarcely repay
cultivation, but the harbor was incommodious and shallow. Several
general meetings were held, and the subject was very thoroughly
discussed. Many had already moved to other locations, and the church
had thus become seriously weakened.
“Some,” writes Governor Bradford, “were still for staying together in
this place, alleging that men and women might here live, if they would
be content with their condition. And it was not for want of necessities
so much they removed, as for the enriching of themselves. Others were
resolute upon removal, and so signified that here they would not stay;
that if the church did not remove, they must; insomuch that many were
swayed, rather than that there should be a dissolution of the church,
to condescend to a removal, if a fit place could be found, that
might more conveniently and comfortably receive the whole, with such
accession of others as might come to them, for their better strength
and subsistence, and some such like cautions and limitations.”
A committee of the church was chosen, by advice of Governor Bradford,
to select a place to move to. They repaired to Nauset, on Cape Cod,
where is now the town of Eastham. The report they brought back was
so much in favor of the place that the large majority of the church
consented to remove there. But it was soon found that they had by
no means improved their condition by the removal. The result is
graphically described by Governor Bradford:
“Now they began to see their error, that they had given away already
the best and most commodious places to others, and now wanted them
themselves. For this place was about fifty miles from here, and at an
outside of the country, remote from all society. Also it would prove
so strait as it would not be competent to receive the whole body, much
less be capable of any addition or increase. Thus, in a short time,
they would be worse there than they are now here. The which, with
sundry other like considerations and inconveniences, made them change
their resolutions. But such as were before resolved upon removal took
advantage of this agreement, and went on, notwithstanding; neither
could the rest hinder them, they having made some beginning. Thus was
this poor church left, like an ancient mother, grown old and forsaken
of her children, though not in their affections, yet in regard to their
bodily presence and personal helpfulness. Her ancient members being
most of them worn away by death; and these of later times being like
children translated into other families, and she, like a widow, left
only to trust in God. Thus she that had made many rich became herself
poor.”
It required sleepless vigilance and the wisest measures to keep
peace with the Indians. There were now, in the several colonies,
many individual white men who were totally unprincipled. No power
of law could restrain them from insulting and abusing the Indians.
The ignorant savages had very inadequate conceptions of justice, and
avenged themselves upon any white men who fell into their hands. One
of these miscreant white men, who was running away from Massachusetts,
was killed by an Indian, in the woods between Fairfield and Stamford.
No one knows whether the Indian had any provocation to commit the
deed. The murderer was demanded by the Massachusetts authorities. The
sachem of the tribe promised to deliver him to the English, bound. Ten
Englishmen were sent to receive the prisoner. The Indians, who were in
charge of the captive, as soon as they came in sight of the English
party, cut his bands and he fled like a deer into the woods. Upon this
the English seized eight of the Indians, including two sachems, and
held them in close captivity for two days, until they received, from
the chiefs, satisfactory promises that the murderer should be delivered
to them.
About a week after this, a wandering Indian came to a lonely hut in
Stamford, and finding a woman alone, killed her, as he supposed, and
robbed the house. All the Indians in that region seemed angry, sullen,
and often insulting. It was not deemed safe for the English to travel,
unless well armed and in some strength. A vigilant watch had to be kept
night and day. This was a very uncomfortable state of things, but no
remedy could be devised for it. So many had moved from Plymouth that
the little village was quite in a state of decay. Duxbury, where Miles
Standish had taken his farm, was, as we have mentioned, at a distance
of eight miles from Plymouth. Francis Baylies, alluding to the place in
the year 1830, writes:
“The extensive pine forest, the certain evidence of sandy and barren
soil, which even now almost skirts the ancient town of Plymouth on
the south and the west, prevented any extension of population in that
direction, and on the east the ocean was its boundary. So unconquerable
is the barrenness of this region, that even now the wild deer makes his
lair in the same place where deer were hunted by our forefathers two
centuries ago, and a few wretched Indians inhabit the primeval woods in
which their ancestors disdained to dwell.”[51]
Fear of the Indians, with whom hostilities were liable at any time to
break out, prevented the colonists from selecting farms far inland. The
strong settlements on Massachusetts Bay induced the Plymouth people to
extend their settlements along the ocean shore in that direction. The
second church of the Plymouth colony was established at Duxbury.
The house which Captain Standish occupied here during the long evening
of his eventful life, was situated on the southeastern part of the
peninsula, where the remains of the cellar, which he probably dug, are
still to be seen. The house in Duxbury, now called the Standish House,
was built by his son, Alexander, partly it is supposed from timbers
taken from the old house. This fact seems to be substantiated from the
appearance of the beams, which bear the traces of a peculiar saw, which
was used before the introduction of saw-mills. The hearthstone also, as
well as the doors and latchings, were doubtless used in the paternal
home. It was by the side of that fireplace that the heroic captain sat
and mused, while the storms of a New England winter shook his dwelling.
The timbers are of oak, and very sound and strong.
Upon the south side of Captain’s Hill there is a large rock, called
the Captain’s Chair. Near this spot the original barn was erected. The
farm comprised about one hundred and fifty acres, and contained some
of the most fertile land to be found in the county of Plymouth. Other
parts of the town are sandy and unproductive. Clark’s Island, where
the explorers of Plymouth Bay passed their first Sabbath, is said to
possess, in some parts, a rich soil, which can scarcely be surpassed
in any country. “While the northern and western sides offer the most
desirable qualities for pasturage and grain, its southern and eastern
declivities present a perfect garden, abounding with trees, through
whose foliage, even during the summer’s hottest months, stir the
breezes from the sea.”
The historian of Duxbury describes the scene now witnessed from the
summit of Captain’s Hill, and endeavors to give expression to the
emotions which the view must awaken in every reflective mind. He writes:
“Select, should you visit it, the closing hours of a summer’s day, when
the burning heat of the declining sun is dispelled by the cooler shades
of approaching evening, and ascend to its height. Now as the retiring
rays of day form on the heavens above a gorgeous canopy of variegated
hues, so on nature’s face below all brightens into richness, and the
verdure of her covering softens into mildness; the shining villages
around, and the village spires towering against a background of
unfading green, add gladness to the scene. The glassy surface of the
bay within, with its gentle ripplings on the shore beneath, the music
of the dashing waves on the beach without, give quiet to the mind and
peace within.
“Before you, in the distance at the east, appear the white sand-hills
of Cape Cod, shining beyond the blue expanse, and seeming to encircle
by its protecting barrier a spot dear to the heart of every descendant
of that Pilgrim band. Still nearer, at your feet and before you, are
the pleasant bays of Plymouth, Kingston, and Duxbury, enlivened by
passing boats, and sheltered by the beach from a raging ocean, crowned
at its southern extremity by a light-house, and with the extending arm
of Saquish enclosing the Island of the Pilgrims; turning your eyes to
the south, they fall in succession on the promontory of Manomet; on
the ancient town of Plymouth, rising beneath, and--as if under the
protection of the mound beyond, the resting-place of the Pilgrim’s
dead--on the villages of Rocky Nook and of Kingston.
“Extending your eye over the extent of forest to the northwest, you
see the Blue Hills of Milton, ascending far above the surrounding
country; while nearer, at the north, are the villages of Duxbury and
Marshfield, scattered over the fields, whose white cottages, shining in
the sun, offer a pleasing contrast to the scene. Below you and around
you once arose the humble abode of the Pilgrims. Who can gaze upon the
spot which marks the site of the dwelling of Standish, without feelings
of emotion? who can but give thanks that that spirit--
‘A spirit fit to start into an empire
And look the world to law’--
had been sent amongst them, to be their counsel in peace and their
protection in danger? Who can but admire its ready adaptation to a
sphere of action so totally different from the school of his youth?
Here also arose the dwellings of Brewster, who having followed in his
youth the retinue of kings and princes, preferred a solitary retreat in
the western wilds, and there to worship his God in peace. Here, too,
was the abode of Collier, who, under every circumstance of danger,
strove with unceasing toil in the discharge of every duty necessary
to the welfare and prosperity of the colony. Here, too, can be seen
the spot whereon the habitation of Alden was, whose prudent counsels
and whose rigid justice attained for him a rank in the estimation of
the colony, alike an honor to himself, and a subject of pride to his
descendants. Turn your vision as you may, and you will feel that you
are gazing on a scene of more than ordinary interest, full of the most
grateful recollections, and of a nature the most agreeable and pleasing.
“‘Scenes must be beautiful, which daily viewed
Please daily, and whose novelty survives
Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years,--
Praise justly due to those that I describe.’
“Rose, the first wife of Myles Standish, died at Plymouth, January
29, 1621, about a month after the landing. She was among the first to
succumb to the privations of that terrible first winter. He married a
second wife (Barbara), who survived him.
“To his house on Captain’s Hill, Standish removed after his second
marriage, and here he drew around him a devoted class of friends,
among whom were the elder Brewster, George Partridge, John Alden, Mr.
Howland, Francis Eaton, Peter Brown, George Soule, Nicholas Byrom,
Moses Simmons, and other settlers of Duxbury.
“The Indians also loved as well as feared him, and the faithful
Hobbomak ever kept near to minister to his wants, and was the faithful
guide in his travels. This devoted Indian died in 1642, having
faithfully served his master twenty years, and is supposed to have been
buried on the south side of Captain’s Hill, near the great rock called
‘The Captain’s chair.’ Tradition fixes his wigwam between two shell
mounds on the shore near the Standish place, till taken home to the
house of Standish, where he became an inmate till his death.”