UC-NRLF 
 
 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDIS 
 
John Swett 
 
John Swett 
 
THE 
 
 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 ^Illustrated 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY, 
 
 Late Ticknor & Fields, and Fields, Osgood, & Co, 
 
 1876. 
 
Copyright, 1858, by 
 
 HENRY w. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 -EDUCATION! 
 
 University Press : Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 
 Cambridge. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 I. MILES STANDISH 7 
 
 II. LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP .... 13 
 
 III. THE LOVER'S ERRAND 20 
 
 IV. JOHN ALDEN 36 
 
 V. THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER . . 48 
 
 VI. PRISCILLA . . . . . . . 61 
 
 VII. THE MARCH or MILES STANDISH . . .70 
 
 VIII. THE SPINNING-WHEEL ..... 77 
 
 IX. THE WEDDING-DAY 87 
 
 54? 686 
 
THE 
 
 COURTSHIP OP MILES STANDISH. 
 
 i. 
 
 MILES STANDISH. 
 
 the Old Colony days, in Plymouth 
 
 the land of the Pilgrims, 
 To and fro in a room of his simple 
 
 and primitive dwelling, 
 Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordo- 
 van leather, 
 Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the 
 
 Puritan Captain. 
 Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands 
 
 behind him, and pausing 
 Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons 
 
 of warfare, 
 
 Hanging in shining array along the walls of 
 the chamber, 
 
8 THE OOUKTS3I5? OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Cutlass and corselet pf steel, and his trusty 
 word of Damascus, 
 
 Curved at' thfe 'point and inscribed with its mys- 
 tical Arabic sentence, 
 
 While underneath, in a corner, were fowling- 
 piece, musket, and matchlock. 
 
 Short of stature he was, but strongly built and 
 athletic, 
 
 Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with 
 muscles and sinews of iron; 
 
 Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet 
 beard was already 
 
 Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges some- 
 times in November. 
 
 Near him was seated John Alden, his friend, 
 and household companion, 
 
 Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine 
 by the window ; 
 
 Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon 
 complexion, 
 
 Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty 
 thereof, as the captives 
 
 Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, 
 
 " Not Angles, but Angels." 
 -Youngest of all was he of the men who came 
 in the May Flower. 
 
 Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent 
 scribe interrupting, 
 
MILES STANDISH. 9 
 
 Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish 
 
 the Captain of Plymouth. 
 " Look at these arms," he said, " the warlike 
 
 weapons that hang here 
 
 Burnished and bright and clean, as if for pa- 
 rade or inspection ! 
 Tins is the sword of Damascus I fought with 
 
 in Flanders ; this breastplate, 
 Well I remember the day ! once saved my life 
 
 in a skirmish ; 
 Here in front you can see the very dint of the 
 
 bullet 
 Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish 
 
 arcabucero. 
 Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten 
 
 bones of Miles Standish 
 Would at this moment be mould, in their grave 
 
 in the Flemish morasses." 
 Thereupon answered John Aldeu, but looked 
 
 not up from his writing : 
 "Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened 
 
 the speed of the bullet ; 
 He in his mercy preserved you, to be our 
 
 shield and our weapon ! " 
 Still the Captain continued, unheeding the 
 
 words of the stripling : 
 " See, how bright they are burnished, as if in 
 
 an arsenal hanging ; 
 
10 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 That is because I have done it myself, and not 
 
 left it to others. 
 Serve yourself, would you be well served, is 
 
 an excellent adage; 
 So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens 
 
 and your inkhorn. 
 Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, 
 
 invincible army, 
 Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest 
 
 and his matchlock, 
 Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet 
 
 and pillage, 
 And, like Csesar, I know the name of each of 
 
 my soldiers ! " 
 This he said with a smile, that danced in his 
 
 eyes, as the sunbeams 
 Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish 
 
 again in a moment. 
 
 Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Cap- 
 tain continued : 
 " Look ! you can see from this window my 
 
 brazen howitzer planted 
 High on the roof of the church, a preacher 
 
 who speaks to the purpose, 
 Steady, straightforward, and strong, with irre- 
 sistible logic, 
 Orthodox, flashing conviction right into the 
 
 hearts of the heathen. 
 
MILES STANDISH. 11 
 
 Now we are ready, I think, for any assault of 
 
 the Indians ; 
 Let them come, if they like, and the sooner 
 
 they try it the better, 
 Let them come if they like, be it sagamore, 
 
 sachem, or pow-wow, 
 Aspinet, Samoset, Corbitant, Squanto, or To- 
 
 kamahamon ! " 
 
 Long at the window he stood, and wistfully 
 
 gazed on the landscape, 
 Washed with a cold gray mist, the vapory 
 
 breath of the east-wind, 
 Forest and meadow and hill, and the steel-blue 
 
 rim of the ocean, 
 Lying silent and sad, in the afternoon shadows 
 
 and sunshine. 
 Over his countenance flitted a shadow like 
 
 those on the landscape, 
 Gloom intermingled with light ; and his voice 
 
 was subdued with emotion, 
 Tenderness, pity, regret, as after a pause he 
 
 proceeded : 
 "Yonder there, on the hill by the sea, lies 
 
 buried Rose Standish ; 
 Beautiful rose of love, that bloomed for me by 
 
 the wayside ! 
 She was the first to die of all who came in the 
 
 May Elower ! 
 
12 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Green above her is growing the field of wheat 
 
 we have sown there. 
 Better to hide from the Indian scouts the 
 
 graves of our people, 
 Lest they should count them and see how many 
 
 already have perished ! " 
 Sadly his face he averted, and strode up and 
 
 down, and was thoughtful. 
 
 Fixed to the opposite wall was a shelf of 
 books, and among them 
 
 Prominent three, distinguished alike for bulk 
 and for binding ; 
 
 Bariffe's Artillery Guide, and the Commenta- 
 ries of Csesar 
 
 Out of the Latin translated by Arthur Goldinge 
 of London, 
 
 And, as if guarded by these, between them was 
 standing the Bible. 
 
 Musing a moment before them, Miles Standish 
 paused, as if doubtful 
 
 Which of the three he should choose for his 
 consolation and comfort, 
 
 Whether the wars of the Hebrews, the famous 
 campaigns of the Romans, 
 
 Or the Artillery practice, designed for belliger- 
 ent Christians. 
 
 Finally down from its shelf he dragged the 
 ponderous Roman, 
 
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 13 
 
 Seated himself at the window, and opened the 
 book, and in silence 
 
 Turned o'er the well-worn leaves, where thumb- 
 marks thick on the margin, 
 
 Like the trample of feet, proclaimed the battle 
 was hottest. 
 
 Nothing was heard in the room but the hurry- 
 ing pen of the stripling, 
 
 Busily writing epistles important, to go by the 
 May Flower, 
 
 Ready to sail on the morrow, or next day at 
 latest, God willing ! 
 
 Homeward bound with the tidings of all that 
 terrible winter, 
 
 Letters written by Alden, and full of the name 
 of Priscilla, 
 
 Full of the name and the fame of the Puritan 
 maiden Priscilla ! 
 
 II. 
 
 LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 NOTHING was heard in the room but the hur- 
 rying pen of the stripling, 
 
 Or an occasional sigh from the laboring heart 
 of the Captain, 
 
 Reading the marvellous words and achieve- 
 ments of Julius Csesar. 
 
14 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 After a while he exclaimed, as he smote with 
 
 his hand, palm downwards, 
 Heavily on the page : "A wonderful man was 
 
 this Caesar ! 
 - You are a writer, and I am a fighter, but here 
 
 is a fellow 
 Who could both write and fight, and in both 
 
 was equally skilful ! " 
 Straightway answered and spake John Alden, 
 
 the comely, the youthful : 
 " Yes, he was equally skilled, as you say, with 
 
 his pen and his weapons. 
 Somewhere have I read, but where I forget, 
 
 he could dictate 
 Seven letters at once, at the same time writing 
 
 his memoirs." 
 " Truly," continued the Captain, not heeding 
 
 or hearing 'the other, 
 "Truly a wonderful man was Caius Julius 
 
 Csesar ! 
 
 Better be first, he said, in a little Iberian village, 
 Than be second in Rome, and I think he was 
 
 right when he said it. 
 Twice was he married before he was twenty, 
 
 and many times after ; 
 Battles five hundred he fought, and a thousand 
 
 cities he conquered ; 
 He, too, fought in Elanders, as he himself has 
 
 recorded ; 
 
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 15 
 
 [Finally he was stabbed by his friend, the ora- 
 tor Brutus ! 
 Now, do you know what he did on a certain 
 
 occasion in Flanders, 
 When the rear-guard of his army retreated, 
 
 1^ front giving way too, 
 And the immortal Twelfth Legion was crowded 
 
 so closely together 
 There was no room for their swords ? Why, 
 
 he seized a shield from a soldier, 
 Put himself straight at the head of his troops, 
 
 and commanded the captains, 
 Calling on each by his name, to order forward 
 
 the ensigns ; 
 Then to widen the ranks, and give more room 
 
 for their weapons ; 
 So he won the day, the battle of something-or- 
 
 other. 
 That 's what I always say ; if you wish a thing 
 
 to be well done, 
 You must do it yourself, you must not leave it 
 
 to others ! " 
 
 All was silent again ; the Captain continued 
 his reading. 
 
 Nothing was heard in the room but the hurry- 
 ing pen of the stripling 
 
 Writing epistles important to go next day by 
 the May Mower, 
 
16 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Tilled with the name and the fame of the 
 
 Puritan maiden Priscilla ; 
 Every sentence began or closed with the 
 
 name of Priscilla, 
 Till the treacherous pen, to which he confided 
 
 the secret, 
 Strove to betray it by singing and shouting the 
 
 name of Priscilla ! 
 Finally closing his book, with a bang of the 
 
 ponderous cover, 
 Sudden and loud as the sound of a soldier 
 
 grounding his musket, 
 Thus to the young man spake Miles Standish 
 
 the Captain of Plymouth : 
 " When you have finished your work, I have 
 
 something important to tell you. 
 Be not however in haste ; I can wait ; I shall 
 
 not be impatient ! " 
 Straightway Alden replied, as he folded the last 
 
 of his letters, 
 
 Pushing his papers aside, and giving respect- 
 ful attention : 
 " Speak ; for whenever you speak, I am always 
 
 ready to listen, 
 Always ready to hear whatever pertains to 
 
 Miles Standish. 3 ' 
 Thereupon answered the Captain, embarrassed, 
 
 and culling his phrases : 
 
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 17 
 
 " 'T is not good for a man to be alone, say the 
 
 Scriptures. 
 This I have said before, and again and again I 
 
 repeat it ; 
 Every hour in the day, I think it, and feel it, 
 
 and say it. 
 Since Irose Standish died, my life has been 
 
 weary and dreary, 
 Sick at heart have I been, beyond the healing 
 
 of friendship. 
 Oft in my lonely hours have I thought of the 
 
 maiden Priscilla. 
 She is alone in the world; her father and 
 
 mother and brother 
 Died in the winter together ; I saw her going 
 
 and coming, 
 Now to the grave of the dead, and now to the 
 
 bed of the dying, 
 Patient, courageous, and strong, and said to 
 
 myself, that if ever 
 There were angels on earth, as there are angels 
 
 in heaven, 
 Two have I seen and known ; and the angel 
 
 whose name is Priscilla 
 Holds in my desolate life the place which the 
 
 other abandoned. 
 Long have I cherished the thought, but never 
 
 have dared to reveal it, 
 
18 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII. 
 
 Being a coward in this, though valiant enough 
 
 for the most part. 
 Go to the damsel Priscilla, the loveliest maiden 
 
 of Plymouth, 
 Say that a blunt old Captain, a man not of 
 
 words but of actions, 
 Offers his hand and his heart, the foand and 
 
 heart of a soldier. 
 Not in these words, you know, but this in short 
 
 is my meaning ; 
 
 I am a maker of war, and not a maker of phrases. 
 You, who are bred as a scholar, can say it in 
 
 elegant language, 
 Such as you read in your books of the pleadings 
 
 and wooings of lovers, 
 Such as you think best adapted to win the heart 
 
 of a maiden." 
 
 When he had spoken, John Alden, the fair- 
 haired, taciturn stripling, 
 
 All aghast at his words, surprised, embarrassed, 
 bewildered, 
 
 Trying to mask his dismay by treating the sub- 
 ject with lightness, 
 
 Trying to smile, and yet feeling his heart stand 
 still in his bosom, 
 
 Just as a timepiece stops in a house that is 
 stricken by lightning, 
 
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. 19 
 
 Thus made answer and spake, or rather stam- 
 mered than answered : 
 ff Such a message as that, I am sure I should 
 
 mangle and mar it ; 
 If you would have it well done, I am only 
 
 repeating your maxim, 
 You must do it yourself, you must not leave it 
 
 to others ! " 
 But with the air of a man whom nothing can 
 
 turn from his purpose, 
 Gravely shaking his head, made answer the 
 
 Captain of Plymouth : 
 " Truly the maxim is good, and I do not mean 
 
 to gainsay it ; 
 But we must use it discreetly, and not waste 
 
 powder for nothing. 
 Now, as I said before, I was never a maker of 
 
 phrases. 
 I can march up to a fortress and summon the 
 
 place to surrender, 
 
 But march up to a woman with such a pro- 
 posal, I dare not. 
 I 'm not afraid of bullets, nor shot from the 
 
 mouth of a cannon, 
 But of a thundering ' No ! ' point-blank from 
 
 the mouth of a woman, 
 That I confess 1 7 m afraid of, nor am I ashamed 
 
 to confess it ! 
 
20 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 So you must grant my request, for you are an 
 
 elegant scholar, 
 Having the graces- of speech, and skill in the 
 
 turning of phrases." 
 Taking the hand of his friend, who still was 
 
 reluctant and doubtful, 
 Holding it long in his own, and pressing it 
 
 kindly, he added : 
 " Though I have spoken thus lightly, yet deep 
 
 is the feeling that prompts me ; 
 Surely you cannot refuse what I ask in the 
 
 name of our friendship ! " 
 Then made answer John Alden : " The name 
 
 of friendship is sacred ; 
 What you demand in that name, I have not the 
 
 power to deny you ! " 
 So the strong will prevailed, subduing and 
 
 moulding the gentler, 
 Friendship prevailed over love, and Alden went 
 
 on his errand. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE LOVER'S ERRAND. 
 
 So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on 
 
 his errand, 
 Out of the street of the village, and into the 
 
 paths of the forest, 
 

 
THE LOVER'S 'ERRAND. 23 
 
 Into the tranquil woods, where bluebirds and 
 
 robins were building 
 Towns in the populous trees, with hanging 
 
 gardens of verdure, 
 Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and affection and 
 
 freedom. 
 
 All around him was calm, but within him com- 
 motion and conflict, 
 Love contending with friendship, and self with 
 
 each generous impulse. 
 To and fro in his breast his thoughts were 
 
 heaving and dashing, 
 As in a foundering ship, with every roll of the 
 
 vessel, 
 Washes the bitter sea, the merciless surge of 
 
 the ocean ! 
 " Must I relinquish it all," he cried with a wild 
 
 lamentation, 
 " Must I relinquish it all, the joy, the hope, the 
 
 illusion ? 
 Was it for this I have loved, and waited, and 
 
 worshipped in silence ? 
 Was it for this I have followed the flying feet 
 
 and the shadow 
 Over the wintry sea, to the desolate shores of 
 
 New England ? 
 Truly the heart is deceitful, and out of its depths 
 
 of corruption 
 
24 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Rise, like an exhalation, the misty phantoms 
 of passion; 
 
 Angels of light they seem, but are only delu- 
 sions of Satan. 
 
 All is clear to me now ; I feel it, I see it dis- 
 tinctly ! 
 
 This is the hand of the Lord ; it is laid upon 
 me iii anger, 
 
 Tor I have followed too much the heart's de- 
 sires and devices, 
 
 Worshipping Astaroth blindly, and impious 
 idols of Baal. 
 
 This is the cross I must bear ; the sin and the 
 swift retribution." 
 
 So through the Plymouth woods John Alden 
 
 went on his errand ; 
 Crossing the brook at the ford, where it brawled 
 
 over pebble and shallow, 
 Gathering still, as he went, the May-flowers 
 
 blooming around him, 
 Fragrant, filling the air with a strange and 
 
 wonderful sweetness, 
 Children lost in the woods, and covered with 
 
 leaves in their slumber. 
 " Puritan flowers," he said, " and the type of 
 
 Puritan maidens, 
 Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of 
 
 Priscilla ! 
 
THE LOVER'S ERRAND. 25 
 
 So I will take them to her; to Priscilla the 
 
 May-flower of Plymouth, 
 Modest and simple and sweet, as a parting gift 
 
 will I take them ; 
 Breathing their silent farewells, as they fade 
 
 and wither and perish, 
 Soon to be thrown away as is the heart of the 
 
 giver." 
 So through the Plymouth woods John Alden 
 
 went on his errand ; 
 Came to an open space, and saw the disk of 
 
 the ocean, 
 Sailless, sombre and cold with the comfortless 
 
 breath of the east -wind ; 
 Saw the new-built house, and people at work 
 
 in a meadow ; 
 Heard, as he drew near the door, the musical 
 
 voice of Priscilla 
 Singing the hundredth Psalm, the grand old 
 
 Puritan anthem, 
 Music that Luther sang to the sacred words of 
 
 the Psalmist, 
 Full of the breath of the Lord, consoling and 
 
 comforting many. 
 Then, as he opened the door, he beheld the 
 
 form of the maiden 
 Seated beside her wheel, and the carded wool 
 
 like a snow-drift 
 
26 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the 
 
 ravenous spindle, 
 While with her foot on the treadle she guided 
 
 the wheel in its motion. 
 
 Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm- 
 book of Ainsworth, 
 Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music 
 
 together, 
 Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the 
 
 wall of a churchyard, 
 Darkened and overhung by the running vine of 
 
 the verses. 
 Such was the book from whose pages she sang 
 
 the old Puritan anthem, 
 She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the 
 
 forest, 
 
 Making the humble house and the modest ap- 
 parel of homespun 
 Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the 
 
 wealth of her being ! 
 Over him rushed, like a wind that is keen and 
 
 cold and relentless, 
 Thoughts of what might have been, and the 
 
 weight and woe of his errand ; 
 All the dreams that had faded, and all the hopes 
 
 that had vanished, 
 All his life henceforth a dreary and tenantless 
 
 mansion, 
 

 I 
 
JOHN ALDEN. 37 
 
 Blowing o'er rocky wastes, and tlie grottos and 
 gardens of ocean ! 
 
 Lay thy cold, moist hand on my burning fore- 
 head, and wrap me 
 
 Close in thy garments of mist, to allay the fever 
 within me ! " 
 
 Like an awakened conscience, the sea was 
 
 moaning and tossing, 
 Beating remorseful and loud the mutable sands 
 
 of the sea-shore. 
 Fierce in his soul was the struggle and tumult 
 
 of passions contending ; 
 Love triumphant and crowned, and friendship 
 
 wounded and bleeding, - 
 Passionate cries of desire, and importunate 
 
 pleadings of duty ! 
 " Is it my fault," he said, " that the maiden has 
 
 chosen between us ? 
 Is it my fault that he failed, my fault that I 
 
 am the victor ? " 
 Then within him there thundered a voice, like 
 
 the voice of the Prophet : 
 " It hath displeased the Lord ! " and he 
 
 thought of David's transgression, 
 Bathsheba's beautiful face, and his friend in the 
 
 front of the battle ! 
 
38 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Shame and confusion of guilt, and abasement 
 and self-condemnation, 
 
 Overwhelmed him at once ; and he cried in the 
 deepest contrition : 
 
 " It hath displeased the Lord ! It is the temp- 
 tation of Satan ! " 
 
 Then, uplifting his head, he looked at the sea, 
 
 and beheld there 
 Dimly the shadowy form of the May Mower 
 
 riding at anchor, 
 Rocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on 
 
 the morrow ; 
 Heard the voices of men through the mist, the 
 
 rattle of cordage 
 Thrown on the deck, the shouts of the mate, 
 
 and the sailors' " Ay, ay, Sir ! " 
 Clear and distinct, but not loud, in the drip- 
 ping air of the twilight. 
 Still for a moment he stood, and listened, and 
 
 stared at the vessel, 
 Then went hurriedly on, as one who, seeing a 
 
 phantom, 
 Stops, then quickens his pace, and follows the 
 
 beckoning shadow. 
 " Yes, it is plain to me now," he mrfrmured ; 
 
 " the hand of the Lord is 
 Leading me out of the land of darkness, the 
 
 bondage of error, 
 
JOHN ALDEN. 41 
 
 Through the sea, that shall lift the walls of 
 
 its waters around me, 
 Hiding me, cutting me off, from the cruel 
 
 thoughts that pursue me. 
 Back will I go o'er the ocean, this dreary land 
 
 will abandon, 
 Her whom I may not love, and him whom my 
 
 heart has offended. 
 Better to be in my grave in the green old 
 
 churchyard in England, 
 Close by my mother's side, and among the 
 
 dust of my kindred ; 
 Better be dead and forgotten, than living in 
 
 shame and dishonor ! 
 Sacred and safe and unseen, in the dark of the 
 
 narrow chamber 
 With me my secret shall lie, like a buried jewel 
 
 that glimmers 
 Bright on the hand that is dust, in the chambers 
 
 of silence and darkness, 
 Yes, as the marriage ring of the great espousal 
 
 hereafter ! " 
 
 Thus as he spake he turned, in the strength 
 
 of his strong resolution, 
 Leaving behind him the shore, and hurried 
 
 along in the twilight, 
 Through the congenial gloom of the forest 
 
 silent and sombre, 
 
42 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of 
 Plymouth,, 
 
 Shining like seven stars in the dusk and mist < 
 of the evening. 
 
 Soon he entered his door, and found the re- 
 doubtable Captain 
 
 Sitting alone, and absorbed in the martial pages 
 of Caesar, 
 
 Fighting some great campaign in Hainault or 
 Brabant or Flanders. 
 
 " Long have you been on your errand," he said 
 with a cheery demeanor, 
 
 Even as one who is waiting an answer, and 
 fears not the issue. 
 
 " Not far off is the house, although the woods 
 are between us ; 
 
 But you have lingered so long, that while you 
 were going and coming 
 
 I have fought ten battles and sacked and de- 
 molished a city. 
 
 Come, sit, down, and in order relate to me all 
 that has happened." 
 
 Then John Alden spake, and related the 
 
 wondrous adventure, 
 From beginning to end, minutely, just as it 
 
 happened ; 
 How he had seen Priscilla, and how he had sped 
 
 in his courtship, 
 
JOHN ALDEN. 43 
 
 Only smoothing a little, and softening down 
 her refusal. 
 
 But when he came at length to the words 
 Priscilla had spoken, 
 
 Words so tender and cruel : " Why don't you 
 speak for yourself, John ? " 
 
 Up leaped the Captain of Plymouth, and stamped 
 on the floor, till his armor 
 
 Clanged on the wall, where it hung, with a 
 sound of sinister omen. 
 
 All his pent-up wrath burst forth in a sudden 
 explosion, 
 
 E'en as a hand-grenade, that scatters destruc- 
 tion around it. 
 
 Wildly he shouted and loud : " John Alden ! 
 you have betrayed me ! 
 
 Me, Miles Standish, your friend ! have sup- 
 planted, defrauded, betrayed me ! 
 
 One of my ancestors ran his sword through the 
 heart of Wat Tyler; 
 
 Who shall prevent me from running my own 
 through the heart of a traitor ? 
 
 Yours is the greater treason, for yours is a 
 treason to friendship ! 
 
 You, who lived under my roof, whom I cher- 
 ished and loved as a brother ; 
 
 You, who have fed at my board, and drunk at 
 my cup, to whose keeping 
 
44 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 I have intrusted my honor, my thoughts the 
 
 most sacred and secret, 
 You too, Brutus ! ah woe to the name of 
 
 friendship hereafter ! 
 Brutus was Cesar's friend, and you were mine, 
 
 but henceforward 
 Let there be nothing between us save war, and 
 
 implacable hatred ! " 
 
 So spake the Captain of Plymouth, and strode 
 
 about in the chamber, 
 Chafing and choking with rage ; like cords were 
 
 the veins on his temples. 
 But in the midst of his anger a man appeared 
 
 at the doorway, 
 Bringing in uttermost haste a message of urgent 
 
 importance, 
 
 Rumors of danger and war and hostile incur- 
 sions of Indians ! 
 Straightway the Captain paused, and, without 
 
 further question or parley, 
 Took from the nail on the wall his sword with 
 
 its scabbard of iron, 
 Buckled the belt round his waist, and, frowning 
 
 fiercely, departed. 
 Alden was left alone. He heard the clank of 
 
 the scabbard 
 Growing fainter and fainter, and dying away in 
 
 the distance. 
 
JOHN ALDEN. 47 
 
 Is it to shoot red squirrels you have your how- 
 itzer planted 
 
 There on the roof of the church, or is it to 
 shoot red devils ? 
 
 Truly the only tongue that is understood by a 
 savage 
 
 Must be the tongue of fire that speaks from the 
 mouth of the cannon ! " 
 
 Thereupon answered and said the excellent 
 Elder of Plymouth, 
 
 Somewhat amazed and alarmed at this irrever- 
 ent language : 
 
 ( ' Not so thought Saint Paul, nor yet the other 
 Apostles ; 
 
 Not from the cannon's mouth were the tongues 
 of fire they spake with ! " 
 
 But unheeded fell this mild rebuke on the . 
 Captain, 
 
 Who had advanced to the table, and thus con- 
 tinued discoursing : 
 
 " Lsave this matter to me, for to me by right 
 it pertaineth. 
 
 "War is a terrible trade ; but in the cause that 
 is righteous, 
 
 Sweet is the smell of powder ; and thus I an- 
 swer the challenge ! " 
 
 Then from the rattlesnake's skin, with a 
 sudden, contemptuous gesture, 
 
48 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Jerking the Indian arrows, lie filled it with, 
 powder and bullets 
 
 Full to the very jaws, and handed it back to the 
 savage, 
 
 Saying, in thundering tones, : " Here, take it ! 
 this is your answer ! " 
 
 Silently out of the room then glided the glis- 
 tening savage, 
 
 Bearing the serpent's skin, and seeming him- 
 self like a serpent, 
 
 Winding his sinuous way in the dark to the 
 depths of the forest. 
 
 V. 
 
 THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER. 
 
 JUST in the gray of the dawn, as the mists up- 
 rose from the meadows, 
 
 There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering 
 village of Plymouth ; 
 
 Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order 
 imperative, " Forward ! " 
 
 Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and 
 then silence. 
 
 Figures ten, in the mist, marched slowly out of 
 the village. 
 
 Standish the stalwart it was, with eight of his 
 valorous army, 
 
THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER. 49 
 
 Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend 
 of the white men, 
 
 Northward marching to quell the sudden revolt 
 of the savage. 
 
 Giants they seemed in the mist, or the mighty 
 men of King David ; 
 
 Giants in heart they were, who believed in God 
 and the Bible, 
 
 Ay, who believed in the smiting of Midianites 
 and Philistines. 
 
 Over them gleamed far off the crimson banners 
 of morning ; 
 
 Under them loud on the sands, the serried bil- 
 lows, advancing, 
 
 Eired along the line, and in regular order re- 
 treated. 
 
 Many a mile had they marched, when at 
 length the village of Plymouth 
 
 Woke from its sleep, and arose, intent on its 
 manifold labors. 
 
 Sweet was the air and soft; and slowly the 
 smoke from the chimneys 
 
 Rose over roofs of thatch, and pointed steadily 
 eastward ; 
 
 Men came forth from the doors, and paused 
 and talked of the weather, 
 
 Said that the wind had changed, and was blow- 
 ing fair for the May Elower ; 
 
50 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Talked of their Captain's departure, and all the 
 
 dangers that menaced, 
 He being gone, the town, and what should be 
 
 done in his absence. 
 Merrily sang the birds, and the tender voices 
 
 of women 
 Consecrated with hymns the common cares of 
 
 the household. 
 Out of the sea rose the sun, and the billows 
 
 rejoiced at his coming; 
 Beautiful were his feet on the purple tops of 
 
 the mountains ; 
 Beautiful on the sails of the May Elower riding 
 
 at anchor, 
 Battered and blackened and worn by all the 
 
 storms of the winter. 
 Loosely against her masts was hanging and 
 
 flapping her canvas, 
 Rent by so many gales, and patched by the 
 
 hands of the sailors. 
 Suddenly from her side, as the sun rose over 
 
 the ocean, 
 Darted a puff of smoke, and floated seaward ; 
 
 anon rang 
 Loud over field and forest the cannon's roar, 
 
 and the echoes 
 Heard and repeated the sound, the signal-gun 
 
 of departure ! 
 
THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER. 51 
 
 Ah ! but with louder echoes replied the hearts 
 
 of the people ! 
 Meekly, in voices subdued, the chapter was 
 
 read from the Bible, 
 Meekly the prayer was begun, but ended in 
 
 fervent entreaty ! 
 Then from their houses in haste came forth the 
 
 Pilgrims of Plymouth, 
 Men and women and children, all hurrying 
 
 down to the sea-shore, 
 Eager, with tearful eyes, to say farewell to the 
 
 May Mower, 
 Homeward bound o'er the sea, and leaving 
 
 them here in the desert. 
 
 [Foremost among them was Alden. All night 
 he had lain without slumber, 
 
 Turning and tossing about in the heat and un- 
 rest of his fever. 
 
 He had beheld Miles Standish, who came back 
 late from the council, 
 
 Stalking into the room, and heard him mutter 
 and murmur, 
 
 Sometimes it seemed a prayer, and sometimes 
 it sounded like swearing. 
 
 Once he had come to the bed, and stood there 
 a moment in silence ; 
 
 Then he turned away, and said: "I will not 
 awake him ; 
 
52 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Let him sleep on, it is best ; for what is the 
 use of more talking ! " 
 
 Then he extinguished the light, and threw him- 
 self down on his pallet, 
 
 Dressed as he was, and ready to start at the 
 break of the morning, 
 
 Covered himself with the cloak he had worn in 
 his campaigns in Flanders, 
 
 Slept as a soldier sleeps in his bivouac, ready 
 for action. 
 
 But with the dawn he arose ; in the twilight 
 Alden beheld him 
 
 Put on his corselet of steel, and all the rest of 
 his armor, 
 
 Buckle about his waist his trusty blade of Da- 
 mascus, 
 
 Take from the corner his musket, and so stride 
 out of the chamber. 
 
 Often the heart of the youth had burned and 
 yearned to embrace him, 
 
 Often his lips had essayed to speak, imploring 
 for pardon ; 
 
 All the old friendship came back, with its ten- 
 der and grateful emotions ; 
 
 But his pride overmastered the nobler nature 
 within him, 
 
 Pride, and the sense of his wrong, and the 
 burning fire of the insult. 
 
THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER. 53 
 
 So he beheld his friend departing in anger, but 
 
 spake not, 
 Saw him go forth to danger, perhaps to death, 
 
 and he spake not ! 
 Then he arose from his bed, and heard what 
 
 the people were saying, 
 Joined in the talk at the door, with Stephen 
 
 and Richard and Gilbert, 
 Joined in the morning prayer, and in the read- 
 ing of Scripture, 
 And, with the others, in haste went hurrying 
 
 down to the sea-shore, 
 Down to the Plymouth Rock, that had been to 
 
 their feet as a doorstep 
 Into a world unknown, the corner-stone of 
 
 a nation ! 
 
 There with his boat was the Master, already 
 a little impatient 
 
 Lest he should lose the tide, or the wind might 
 shift to the eastward, 
 
 Square-built, hearty, and strong, with an odor 
 of ocean about him, 
 
 Speaking with this one and that, and cram- 
 ming letters and parcels 
 
 Into his pockets capacious, and messages min- 
 gled together 
 
 Into his narrow brain, till at last he was 
 wholly bewildered. 
 
54 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Nearer the boat stood Alden, with one fool 
 
 placed on the gunwale, 
 One still firm on the rock, and talking at times 
 
 with the sailors, 
 Seated erect on the thwarts, all ready and eager 
 
 for starting. 
 He too was eager to go, and thus put an end 
 
 to his anguish, 
 Thinking to fly from despair, that swifter than 
 
 keel is or canvas, 
 Thinking to drown in the sea the ghost that 
 
 would rise and pursue him. 
 But as he gazed on the crowd, he beheld the 
 
 form of Priscilla 
 Standing dejected among them, unconscious of 
 
 all that was passing. 
 Fixed were her eyes upon his, as if she divined 
 
 his intention, 
 
 Fixed with a look so sad, so reproachful, im- 
 ploring, and patient, 
 That with a sudden revulsion his heart recoiled 
 
 from its purpose, 
 As from the verge of a crag, where one step 
 
 more is destruction. 
 Strange is the heart of man, with its quick, 
 
 mysterious instincts ! 
 Strange is the life of man, and fatal or fated 
 
 are moments, , 
 
THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWEK. 57 
 
 Whereupon turn, as on hinges, the gates of the 
 
 wall adamantine ! 
 " Here I remain ! " he exclaimed, as he looked 
 
 at the heavens above him, 
 Thanking the Lord whose breath had scattered 
 
 the mist and the madness, 
 Wherein, blind and lost, to death he was stag- 
 gering headlong. 
 " Yonder snow-white cloud, that floats in the 
 
 ether above me, 
 
 Seems like a hand that is pointing and beckon- 
 ing over the ocean. 
 There is another hand, that is not so spectral 
 
 and ghost-like, 
 Holding me, drawing me back, and clasping 
 
 mine for protection. 
 Float, hand of cloud, and vanish away in the 
 
 ether ! 
 Roll thyself up like a fist, to threaten and 
 
 daunt me ; I heed not 
 Either your warning or menace, or any omen 
 
 of evil ! 
 There is no land so sacred, no air so pure and 
 
 so wholesome, 
 As is the air she breathes, and the soil that is 
 
 pressed by her footsteps. 
 Here for her sake will I stay, and like an 
 
 invisible presence 
 
58 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Hover around her forever, protecting, support- 
 ing her weakness ; 
 
 Yes ! as my foot was the first that stepped on 
 this rock at the landing, 
 
 So, with the blessing of God, shall it be the 
 last at the leaving ! " 
 
 Meanwhile the Master alert, but with digni- 
 fied air and important, 
 
 Scanning with watchful eye the tide and the 
 wind and the weather, 
 
 Walked about on the sands, and the people 
 crowded around him 
 
 Saying a few last words, and enforcing his 
 careful remembrance. 
 
 Then, taking each by the hand, as if he were 
 grasping a tiller, 
 
 Into the boat he sprang, and in haste shoved 
 off to his vessel, 
 
 Glad in his heart to get rid of all this worry 
 and flurry, . 
 
 Glad to be gone from a land of sand and sick- 
 ness and sorrow, 
 
 Short allowance of victual, and plenty of noth- 
 ing but Gospel ! 
 
 Lost in the sound of the oars was the last fare- 
 well of the Pilgrims. 
 
 strong hearts and true ! not one went back 
 in the May Flower ! 
 
THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWEE. 59 
 
 No, not one looked back,, who had set his hand 
 to this ploughing ! 
 
 Soon were heard on board the shouts and 
 
 songs of the sailors 
 Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting tbe 
 
 ponderous anchor. 
 Then the yards were braced, and all sails set 
 
 to the west-wind, 
 Blowing steady and strong; and the May 
 
 Elower sailed from the harbor, 
 Hounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving 
 
 far to the southward 
 Island and cape of sand, and the Field of the 
 
 First Encounter, 
 Took the wind on her quarter, and stood for 
 
 the open Atlantic, 
 Borne on the send of the sea, and the swelling 
 
 hearts of the Pilgrims. 
 
 Long in silence they watched the receding 
 
 sail of the vessel, 
 Much endeared to them all, as something living 
 
 and human ; 
 Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in 
 
 a vision prophetic, 
 Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of 
 
 Plymouth 
 
60 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Said, " Let us pray ! " and they prayed, and 
 
 thanked the Lord and took courage. 
 Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of 
 
 the rock, and above them 
 Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of 
 
 death, and their kindred 
 Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join 
 
 in the prayer that they uttered. 
 Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge 
 
 of the ocean 
 Gleamed the departing sail, like a marble slab 
 
 in a graveyard ; 
 
 Buried beneath it lay forever all hope of escap- 
 ing. 
 Lo ! as they turned to depart, they saw the 
 
 form of an Indian, 
 Watching them from the hill ; but while they 
 
 spake with each other, 
 Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying, 
 
 " Look ! " he had vanished. 
 So they returned to their homes ; but Alclen 
 
 lingered a little, 
 Musing alone on the shore, and watching the 
 
 wash of the billows 
 Hound the base of the rock, and the sparkle 
 
 and flash of the sunshine, 
 Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over the 
 
 waters. 
 
PRISCILLA. 61 
 
 VI. 
 
 PRISCILLA. 
 
 THUS for a while lie stood, and mused by the 
 shore of the ocean, 
 
 Thinking of many things, and most of all of 
 Priscilla ; 
 
 And as if thought had the power to draw to 
 itself, like the loadstone, 
 
 Whatsoever it touches, by subtile laws of its 
 nature, 
 
 Lo ! as he turned to depart, Priscilla was stand- 
 ing beside him. 
 
 "Are you so much offended, you will not 
 
 speak to me ? " said she. 
 " Am I so much to blame, that yesterday, when 
 
 you were pleading 
 
 Warmly the cause of another, my heart, im- 
 pulsive and wayward, 
 Pleaded your own, and spake out, forgetful 
 
 perhaps of decorum ? 
 Certainly you can forgive me for speaking so 
 
 frankly, for saying 
 What I ought not to have said, yet now I can 
 
 never unsay it ; 
 Eor there are moments in life, when the heart 
 
 is so full of emotion, 
 
62 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 That if by chance it be shaken, or into its 
 
 depths like a pebble 
 Drops some careless word, it overflows, and 
 
 its secret, 
 Spilt on the ground like water, can never be 
 
 gathered together. 
 Yesterday I was shocked, when I heard you 
 
 speak of Miles Standish, 
 Praising his virtues, transforming his very 
 
 defects into virtues, 
 Praising his courage and strength, and even 
 
 his fighting in Flanders, 
 As if by fighting alone you could win the heart 
 
 of a woman, 
 Quite overlooking yourself and the rest, in 
 
 exalting your hero. 
 Therefore I spake as I did, by an irresistible 
 
 impulse. 
 You will forgive me, I hope, for the sake of 
 
 the friendship between us, 
 Which is too true and too sacred to be so easily 
 
 broken ! " 
 Thereupon answered John Alden, the scholar, 
 
 the friend of Miles Standish : 
 " I was not angry with you, with myself alone 
 
 I was angry, 
 Seeing how badly I managed the matter I had 
 
 in my keeping." 
 
PRISCILLA. 65 
 
 " No ! " interrupted the maiden, with answer 
 
 prompt and decisive, 
 " No ; you were angry with me, for speaking 
 
 so frankly and freely. 
 It was wrong, I acknowledge ; for it is the fate 
 
 of a woman 
 Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a 
 
 ghost that is speechless, 
 Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell 
 
 of its silence. 
 Hence is the inner life of so many suffering 
 
 women 
 Sunless and silent and deep, like subterranean 
 
 rivers 
 Running through caverns of darkness, unheard, 
 
 unseen, and unfruitful, 
 Chafing their channels of stone, with endless 
 
 and profitless murmurs." 
 Thereupon answered John Alden, the young 
 
 man, the lover of women : 
 " Heaven forbid it, Priscilla ; and truly they 
 
 seem to me always 
 More like the beautiful rivers that watered the 
 
 garden of Eden, 
 More like the river Euphrates, through deserts 
 
 of Havilah flowing, 
 Pilling the land with delight, and memories 
 
 sweet of the garden ! " 
 
66 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 " Ah, by these words, I can see," again inter- 
 rupted the maiden, 
 
 "How very little you prize me, or care for 
 what I am saying. 
 
 When from the depths of my heart, in pain and 
 with secret misgiving, 
 
 Frankly I speak to you, asking for sympathy 
 only and kindness, 
 
 Straightway you take up my words, that are 
 plain and direct and in earnest, 
 
 Turn them away from their meaning, and an- 
 swer with nattering phrases. 
 
 This is not right, is not just, is not true to the 
 best that is in you ; 
 
 For I know and esteem you, and feel that your 
 nature is noble, 
 
 Lifting mine up to a higher, a more ethereal 
 level. 
 
 Therefore I value your friendship, and feel it 
 perhaps the more keenly 
 
 If you say aught that implies I am only as one 
 among many, 
 
 If you make use of those common and compli- 
 mentary phrases 
 
 Most men think so fine, in dealing and speak- 
 ing with women, 
 
 But which women reject as insipid, if not as 
 insulting." 
 
PUT SC ILL A. 67 
 
 Mute and amazed was Alden ; and listened 
 
 and looked at Priscilla, 
 Thinking he never had seen her more fair, 
 
 more divine in her beauty. 
 He who but yesterday pleaded so glibly the 
 
 cause of another, 
 
 Stood there embarrassed and silent, and seek- 
 ing in vain for an answer. 
 So the maiden went on, and little divined or 
 
 imagined 
 What was at work in his heart, that made him 
 
 so awkward and speechless. 
 " Let us, then, be what we are, and speak 
 
 what we think, and in all things 
 Keep ourselves loyal to truth, and the sacred 
 
 professions of friendship. 
 It is no secret I tell you, nor am I ashamed to 
 
 declare it : 
 I have liked to be with you, to see you, to 
 
 speak with you always. 
 So I was hurt at your words, and a little 
 
 affronted to hear you 
 Urge me to marry your friend, though he were 
 
 the Captain Miles Standish. 
 Tor I must tell you the truth : much more to 
 
 me is your friendship 
 Than all the love he could give, were he twice 
 
 the hero you think him." 
 
68 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Then she extended her hand, and Alden, who 
 eagerly grasped it, 
 
 Felt all the wounds in his heart, that were 
 aching and bleeding so sorely, 
 
 Healed by the touch of that hand, and he said, 
 with a voice full of feeling : 
 
 " Yes, we must ever be friends ; and of all who 
 offer you friendship 
 
 Let me be ever the first, the truest, the near- 
 est and dearest ! " 
 
 Casting a farewell look at the glimmering 
 
 sail of the May Elower, 
 Distant, but still in sight, and sinking below 
 
 the horizon, 
 Homeward together they walked, with a 
 
 strange, indefinite feeling, 
 That all the rest had departed and left them 
 
 alone in the desert. 
 But, as they went through the fields in the 
 
 blessing and smile of the sunshine, 
 Lighter grew their hearts, and Priscilla said 
 
 very archly : 
 " Now that our terrible Captain has gone in 
 
 pursuit of the Indians, 
 
 Where he is happier far than he would be com- 
 manding a household, 
 You may speak boldly, and tell me of all that 
 
 happened between you, 
 
PRISCILLA. 69 
 
 When you returned last night, and said how 
 
 ungrateful you found me/ 5 
 Thereupon answered John Alden, and told her 
 
 the whole of the story, 
 Told her his own despair, and the direful wrath 
 
 of Miles Standish. 
 Whereat the maiden smiled, and said between 
 
 laughing and earnest, 
 " He is a little chimney, and heated hot in a 
 
 moment ! " 
 But as he gently rebuked her, and told her how 
 
 he had suffered, 
 How he had even determined to sail that day 
 
 in the May Flower, 
 And had remained for her sake, on hearing the 
 
 dangers that threatened, 
 All her manner was changed, and she said with 
 
 a faltering accent, 
 " Truly I thank you for this : how good you 
 
 have been to me always ! 55 
 
 Thus, as a pilgrim devout, who toward Je- 
 rusalem journeys, 
 
 Taking three steps in advance, and one reluc- 
 tantly backward, 
 
 Urged by importunate zeal, and withheld by 
 pangs of contrition ; 
 
 Slowly but steadily onward, receding yet ever 
 advancing, 
 
70 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Journeyed this Puritan youth to the Holy 
 
 Land of his longings, 
 Urged by the fervor of love, and withheld by 
 
 remorseful misgivings. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 MEANWHILE the stalwart Miles Standish 
 was marching steadily northward, 
 
 Winding through forest and swamp, and along 
 the trend of the sea-shore, 
 
 All day long, with hardly a halt, the fire of his 
 anger 
 
 Burning and crackling within, and the sul- 
 phurous odor of powder 
 
 Seeming more sweet to his nostrils than all 
 the scents of the forest. 
 
 Silent and moody he went, and much he re- 
 volved his discomfort ; 
 
 He who was used to success, and to easy vic- 
 tories always, 
 
 Thus to be flouted, rejected, and laughed to 
 scorn by a maiden, 
 
 Thus to be mocked and betrayed by the friend 
 whom most he had trusted ! 
 
 Ah ! } t was too much to be borne, and he 
 fretted and chafed in his armor ! 
 
THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISH. 71 
 
 " I alone am to blame," he muttered, " for 
 
 mine was the folly. 
 What has a rough old soldier, grown grim and 
 
 gray in the harness, 
 Used to the camp and its ways, to do with the 
 
 wooing of maidens ? 
 J T was but a dream, let it pass, let it 
 
 vanish like so many others ! 
 What I thought was a flower is only a weed, 
 
 and is worthless ; 
 Out of my heart will I pluck it, and throw it 
 
 away, and henceforward 
 Be but a fighter of battles, a lover and wooer 
 
 of dangers ! " 
 Thus he revolved in his mind his sorry defeat 
 
 and discomfort, 
 While he was marching by day or lying at 
 
 night in the forest, 
 Looking up at the trees, and the constellations 
 
 beyond them. 
 
 After a three days' march he came to an 
 
 Indian encampment 
 Pitched on the edge of a meadow, between the 
 
 sea and the forest ; 
 
 Women. at work by IJe tents, and the, warriors, 
 
 horrid with war-paint, . 
 Seated about a fire, and smoking and talking 
 
 together ; 
 
72 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Who, when they saw from afar the sudden 
 approach of the white men, 
 
 Saw the flash of the sun on breastplate and 
 sabre and musket, 
 
 Straightway leaped to their feet, and two, from 
 among them advancing, 
 
 Came to parley with Standish, and offer him 
 furs as a present ; 
 
 Friendship was in their looks, but in their 
 hearts there was hatred. 
 
 Braves of the tribe were these, and brothers 
 gigantic in stature. 
 
 Huge as Goliath of Gath, or the terrible Og, 
 king of Bashan ; 
 
 One was Pecksuot named, and the other was 
 called Wattawamat. 
 
 Hound their necks were suspended their knives 
 in scabbards of wampum, 
 
 Two-edged, trenchant knives, with points as 
 sharp as a needle. 
 
 Other arms had they none, for they were cun- 
 ning and crafty. 
 
 "Welcome, English ! " % they said: these words 
 the^iad learned from the traders 
 
 Touching ai|jimes on the coast, to barter and 
 chaffer for peltries. 
 
 Then in their native tongue they began to par- 
 ley with St'andish, 
 
THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISII. 73 
 
 Through his guide and interpreter, Hobomok, 
 
 friend of the white man, 
 Bagging for blankets and knives, but mostly 
 
 for muskets and powder, 
 Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, 
 
 with the plague, in his cellars, 
 Ready to be let loose, and destroy his brother 
 
 the red man ! 
 But when Standish refused, and said he would 
 
 give them the Bible, 
 Suddenly changing their tone, they began to 
 
 boast and to bluster. 
 Then Wattawamat advanced with a stride in 
 
 front of the other, 
 And, with a lofty demeanor, thus Tauntingly 
 
 spake to the Captain : 
 " Now Wattawamat can see, by the fiery eyes 
 
 of the Captain, 
 Angry is he in his heart ; but the heart of the 
 
 brave Wattawamat 
 Is not afraid at the sight. He was not born 
 
 of a woman, 
 But on a mountain, at. night, from an oak-tree 
 
 riven by lightning, 
 
 Forth he sprang at a bound, with all his weap- 
 ons about him, 
 Shouting, ' Who is there here to fight with the 
 
 bravs Wattawamat ? ' " 
 
74 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting 
 the blade on his left hand, 
 
 Held it aloft and displayed a woman's face on 
 the handle, 
 
 Saying, with bitter expression and look of sin- 
 ister meaning : 
 
 " I have another at home, with the face of a 
 man on the handle ; 
 
 By and by they shall marry ; and there will be 
 plenty of children ! " 
 
 Then stood Pecksuot forth, self-vannting, 
 
 insulting Miles Standish : 
 While with his fingers he patted the knife that 
 
 hung at his bosom, 
 Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging 
 
 it back, as he muttered, 
 " By and by it shall see ; it shall eat ; ah, ha ! 
 
 but shall speak not ! 
 This is the mighty Captain the white men have 
 
 sent to destroy us ! 
 He is a little man ; let him go and work with 
 
 the women ! " 
 
 Meanwhile Standish had noted the faces and 
 
 figures of Indians 
 
 Peeping and creeping about from bush to tree 
 in the forest, 
 
THE MAKCH OF MILES STANDISH. 75 
 
 Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on 
 
 their bow-strings, 
 Drawing about him still closer and closer the 
 
 net of their ambush. 
 But undaunted he stood, and dissembled and 
 
 treated them smoothly ; 
 So the old chronicles say, that were writ in the 
 
 days of the fathers. 
 But when he heard their defiance, the boast, 
 
 the taunt, and the insult, 
 All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and 
 
 of Thurston de Standish, 
 Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the 
 
 veins of his temples. 
 
 Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatch- 
 ing his knife from its scabbard, 
 Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling back- 
 ward, the savage 
 Eell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike 
 
 fierceness upon it. 
 Straight there arose from the forest the awful 
 
 sound of the war-whoop, 
 And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling 
 
 wind of December, 
 Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of 
 
 feathery arrows. 
 Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the 
 
 cloud came the lightning, 
 
76 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Out of the lightning thunder ; and death un- 
 seen ran before it. 
 
 Frightened the savages fled for shelter in swamp 
 and in thicket, 
 
 Hotly pursued and beset; but their sachem, 
 the brave Wattawamat, 
 
 Eled not ; he was dead. Unswerving and 
 swift had a bullet 
 
 Passed though his brain, and he fell with both 
 hands clutching the greensward, 
 
 Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the 
 land of his fathers. 
 
 There on the flowers of the meadow the war- 
 riors lay, and above them, 
 
 Silent, with folded arms, stood Hobomok, 
 friend of the white man. 
 
 'Smiling at length he exclaimed to the stalwart 
 Captain of Plymouth : 
 
 " Pecksuot bragged very loud, of his courage, 
 his strength, and his stature, 
 
 Mocked the great Captain, and called him a 
 little man ; but I see now 
 
 Big enough have you been to lay him speech- 
 less before you ! " 
 
 Thus the first battle was fought and won by 
 the stalwart Miles Standish. 
 
THE SPINNING-WHEEL. 77 
 
 When the tidings thereof were brought to the 
 
 village of Plymouth, 
 And as a trophy of war the head of the brave 
 
 Wattawamat 
 Scowled from the roof of the fort, which at 
 
 once was a church and a fortress, 
 All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the Lord, 
 
 and took courage. 
 Only Priscilla averted her face from this spectre 
 
 of terror, 
 Thanking God in her heart that she had not 
 
 married Miles Standish; 
 Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home 
 
 from his battles, 
 He should lay claim to her hand, as the prize 
 
 and reward of his valor. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE SPINNING-WHEEL. 
 
 MONTH after month passed away, and in Au- 
 tumn the ships of the merchants 
 
 Came with kindred and friends, with cattle and 
 corn for the Pilgrims. 
 
 All in the village was peace ; the men were 
 intent on their labors, 
 
 Busy with hewing and building, with garden- 
 plot and with merestead, 
 
78 THE COUKTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Busy with breaking the glebe, and mowing the 
 
 grass in the meadows, 
 Searching the sea for its fish, and hunting the 
 
 deer in the forest. 
 All in the village was peace ; but at times the 
 
 rumor of warfare 
 Tilled the air with alarm, and the apprehension 
 
 of danger. 
 Bravely the stalwart Standish was scouring the 
 
 land with his forces, 
 Waxing valiant in fight and defeating the alien 
 
 armies, 
 Till his name had become a sound of fear to the 
 
 nations. 
 Anger was still in his heart, but at times the 
 
 remorse and contrition 
 
 Which in all noble natures succeed the pas- 
 sionate outbreak, 
 Came like a rising tide, that encounters the 
 
 rush of a river, 
 Staying its current awhile, but making it bitter 
 
 and brackish. 
 
 Meanwhile Alden at home had built him a 
 
 new habitation, 
 Solid, substantial, of timber rough-hewn from 
 
 the firs of the forest. 
 Wooden-barred was the door, and the roof was 
 
 covered with rushes ; 
 
THE SPINNING-WHEEL. 79 
 
 Latticed the windows were, and the window- 
 panes were of paper, 
 Oiled to admit the light, while wind and rain 
 
 were excluded. 
 There too he dug a well, and around it planted 
 
 an orchard : 
 Still may be seen to this day some trace of the 
 
 well and the orchard. 
 Close to the house was the stall, where, safe 
 
 and secure from annoyance, 
 Ilaghorn, the snow-white bull, that had fallen 
 
 to Alden's allotment 
 In the division of cattle, might ruminate in the 
 
 night-time 
 Over the pastures he cropped, made fragrant 
 
 by sweet pennyroyal. 
 
 Oft when his labor was finished, with eager 
 feet would the dreamer 
 
 Follow the pathway that ran through the woods 
 to the house of Priscilla, 
 
 Led by illusions romantic and subtile decep- 
 tions of fancy, 
 
 Pleasure disguised as duty, and love in the 
 semblance of friendship. 
 
 Ever of her he thought, when he fashioned the 
 walls of his dwelling ; 
 
 Ever of her he thought, when he delved in the 
 soil of his garden ; 
 
80 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STAtfDISH. 
 
 Ever of her he thought, when he read in his 
 
 Bible on Sunday 
 
 Praise of the virtuous woman, as she is de- 
 scribed in the Proverbs, 
 How the heart of her husband doth safely trust 
 
 in he'r always, 
 How all the days of her life she will do him 
 
 good, and not evil, 
 How she seeketh the wool and the flax and 
 
 worketh with gladness, 
 How she layeth her hand to the spindle and 
 
 holdeth the distaff, 
 How she is not afraid of the snow for herself 
 
 or her household, 
 Knowing her household are clothed with the 
 
 scarlet cloth of her weaving ! 
 
 So as she sat at her wheel one afternoon in 
 the Autumn, 
 
 Alden, who opposite sat, and was watching her 
 dexterous fingers, 
 
 As if the thread she was spinning were that of 
 his life and his fortune, 
 
 After a pause in their talk, thus spake to the 
 sound of the spindle. 
 
 " Truly, Priscilla," he said, " when I see you 
 spinning and spinning, 
 
 Never idle a moment, but thrifty and thought- 
 ful of others, 
 
THE WEDDING-DAY. 87 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE WEDDING-DAY. 
 
 FORTH from the curtain of clouds, from the 
 
 Lo ! in the midst of this scene, a breathless 
 
 messenger entered, 
 Bringing in hurry and heat the terrible news 
 
 from the village. 
 Yes ; Miles Standish was dead ! an Indian 
 
 had brought them the tidings, 
 Slain by a poisoned arrow, shot down in the 
 
 front of the battle, 
 Into an ambush beguiled, cut off with the 
 
 whole of his forces ; 
 All the town would be burned, and all the 
 
 people be murdered ! 
 Such were the tidings of evil that burst on the 
 
 hearts of the hearers. 
 Silent and statue-like stood Priscilla, her face 
 
 looking backward 
 
 Still at the face of the speaker, her arms up- 
 lifted in horror ; 
 But John Alden, upstarting, as if the barb of 
 
 the arrow 
 Piercing the heart of his friend had struck his 
 
 own, and had sundered 
 Once and forever the bonds that held him 
 
88 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 Taking each other for husband and wife in the 
 Magistrate's presence, 
 
 After the Puritan way, and the laudable cus- 
 tom of Holland. 
 
 Fervently then, and devoutly, the excellent 
 Elder of Plymouth 
 
 Prayed for the hearth and the home, that were 
 founded that day in affection, 
 
 Speaking of life and of death, and imploring 
 Divine benedictions. 
 
 Lo ! when the service was ended, a form ap- 
 peared on the threshold, 
 
 Clad in armor of steel, a sombre and sorrowful 
 figure ! 
 
 Why does the bridegroom start and stare at 
 the strange apparition? 
 
 Why does the bride turn pale, and hide her 
 face on his shoulder? 
 
 Is it a phantom of air, a bodiless, spectral 
 illusion ? 
 
 Is it a ghost from the grave, that has come to 
 forbid the betrothal ? 
 
 Long had it stood there unseen, a guest unin- 
 vited, unwelcomed ; 
 
 Over its clouded eyes there had passed at times 
 an expression 
 
 Softening the gloom and revealing the warm 
 heart hidden beneath them, 
 
THE WEDDING-DAY. 89 
 
 As when across the sky the driving rack of the 
 
 rain-cloud 
 Grows for a moment thin, and betrays the sun 
 
 by its brightness. 
 Once it had lifted its hand, and moved its lips, 
 
 but was silent, 
 
 As if an iron will had mastered the fleeting in- 
 tention. 
 But when were ended the troth and the prayer 
 
 and the last benediction, 
 Into the room it strode, and the people beheld 
 
 with amazement 
 Bodily there in his armor Miles Standish the 
 
 Captain of Plymouth ! 
 Grasping the bridegroom's hand, he said with 
 
 emotion, " Forgive me ! 
 I have been angry and hurt, too long have 
 
 I cherished the feeling ; 
 I have been cruel and hard, but now, thank 
 
 God ! it is ended. 
 Mine is the same hot blood that leaped in the 
 
 veins of Hugh Standish, 
 Sensitive, swift to resent, but as swift in aton- 
 ing for error. 
 Never so much as now was Miles Standish the 
 
 friend of John Alden." 
 Thereupon answered the bridegroom : "Let 
 
 all be forgotten between us, 
 
90 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 All save the dear old friendship, and that shall 
 
 grow older and dearer ! " 
 Then the Captain advanced, and, bowing, sa- 
 luted Priscilla, 
 Gravely, and after the manner of old-fashioned 
 
 gentry in England, 
 Something of camp and of court, of town and 
 
 of country, commingled, 
 Wishing her joy of her wedding, and loudly 
 
 lauding her husband. 
 Then he said with a smile : " I should have 
 
 remembered the adage, 
 If you would be well served, you must serve 
 
 yourself; and moreover, 
 No man can gather cherries in Kent at the 
 
 season of Christmas ! " 
 
 Great was the people's amazement, and 
 
 greater yet their rejoicing, 
 Thus to behold once more the sun-burnt face 
 
 of their Captain, 
 Whom they had mourned as dead ; and they 
 
 gathered and crowded about him, 
 Eager to see him and hear him, forgetful of 
 
 bride and of bridegroom, 
 Questioning, answering, laughing, and each 
 
 interrupting the other, 
 Till the good Captain declared, being quite 
 
 overpowered and bewildered, 
 
THE WEDDI&G-BA't. .' V &.], -' ; 
 
 He had rather by f&r ^break. 1 in ; ;o: an i.ixd.iaii', 
 
 encampment, 
 Than come again to a wedding to which he had 
 
 not been invited. 
 
 Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and 
 
 stood with the bride at the doorway, 
 Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and 
 
 beautiful morning. 
 Touched with autumnal tints, but lonely and 
 
 sad in the sunshine, 
 Lay extended before them the land of toil and 
 
 privation ; 
 There were the graves of the dead, and the 
 
 barren waste of the sea-shore, 
 There the familiar fields, the groves of pine, 
 
 and the meadows ; 
 But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the 
 
 Garden of Eden, 
 Filled with the presence of God, whose voice 
 
 was the sound of the ocean. 
 
 Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise 
 and stir of departure, 
 
 Friends coming forth from the house, and im- 
 patient of longer delaying, 
 
 Each with his plan for the day, and the work 
 that was left uncompleted. 
 
92 THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH. 
 
 TLiQn rtrom :4 statt Re'ar. at hand, amid exclama- 
 
 tions of wonder, 
 Alden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so 
 
 proud of Priscilla, 
 Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the 
 
 hand of its. master. 
 Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in 
 
 its nostrils, 
 Covered with crimson cloth, and a cushion 
 
 placed for a saddle. 
 She should not walk, he said, through the dust 
 
 and heat of the noonday ; 
 Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod 
 
 along like a peasant. 
 Somewhat alarmed at first, but reassured by 
 
 the others, 
 Placing her hand on the cushion, her foot in 
 
 the hand of her husband, 
 Gayly, with joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted 
 
 her palfrey. 
 " Nothing is wanting now," he said with a 
 
 smile, "but the distaff; 
 Then you would be in truth my queen, my 
 
 beautiful Bertha ! " 
 
 Onward the bridal procession now moved to 
 
 their new habitation, 
 
 Happy husband and wife,, and friends convers- 
 ing together. 
 
THE WEDDING-DAY. 95 
 
 Pleasantly murmured the brook, as they crossed 
 the ford in the forest, 
 
 Pleased with the image that passed, like a dream 
 of love through its bosom, 
 
 Tremulous, floating in air, o'er the depths of 
 the azure abysses. 
 
 Down through the golden leaves the sun was 
 pouring his splendors, 
 
 Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches 
 above them suspended, 
 
 Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of 
 the pine and the fir-tree, 
 
 Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in 
 the valley of Eschol. 
 
 Like a picture it seemed of the primitive, pas- 
 toral ages, 
 
 Fresh with the youth of the world, and recall- 
 ing Rebecca and Isaac, 
 
 Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful 
 always, 
 
 Love immortal and young in the endless suc- 
 cession of lovers. 
 
 So through the Plymouth woods passed on- 
 ward the bridal procession. 
 

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
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