Hero tales of Congregational history

Preface

*< ^ INHERE were giants in the earth in those days." J. So wrote the author of the ancient Book of Beginnings. That was long ages ago, but ever since, in every generation, there have been giants, not men of enormous stature, or men many hundred years old such as the author of Genesis tells us about, but men great in strength of intellect and mighty in courage, men of marvelous genius and of Godlike spirit. It is about some of these giants that these stories are written.

They are Congregational heroes, men whose greatness, like near-by mountains, still overshadows us, but whose grandeur we can even now begin to estimate. Their heroism is of a sort about which it is well worth while to think, for it is possible for our aims and achievements to become to a certain extent like theirs. Heroes like Caesar or Napoleon most of us are not able to imitate, but we may copy the heroic qualities of Brewster and Robinson. For their church is our church, their adopted land our country, and their great Captain our Commander. We fight a similar battle and we may win victories somewhat like their very own.

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PREFACE

They were spiritual heroes, and the twentieth century with its tremendous problems is waiting eagerly for their successors.

In these narratives the writer has endeavored to use accurately the historical material which she has found. In the stories of the earlier heroes especially she has taken the liberty of relating imaginary conversations and actions which may be something like what actually happened. The bare facts which we know to be absolutely true have their influence upon us, but if we can see in fancy the Pilgrim Separatist walking the snowy shores of New England, if we can feel in imagination the cold which made him tremble, if we can hear in the silence of our homes his words of courage and Godlike trust, if the imagination can make him real to us, his personality and his heroism have far larger appeal to our interest. The space available has not been sufficient to give fancy full play or to make these tales into finished stories with plots and plainly drawn characters. They are rather sketches, not essays upon the men, not stories in the true sense of the word, but glimpses of various events and various people where something of the dramatic and heroic element seemed especially present.

Different heroes have been described with varying freedom. In the first sketches where a far-away time is pictured, only a little could be taken from historic sources, while in one of the last, the story of Cyrus

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PREFACE

Hamlin, every statement of what he did is drawn from his own books.

If these tales can but interest some of our young people in the great men and the great history of our denomination, awakening a desire to know more of these crises of the Church and the way in which they were met, the happiness of the writer will be very great.

Grace T. Davis.

New Britain, Connecticut.

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Contents

I

PAGE

The Great North Road i

II

Master Loveland hesitated. " With no clear purpose," he answered at length. " I was wandering about the manor-house for the enjoyment of the morning sun and air, and seeing so many enter here I pushed in after one of your number. But I will go, of course, if you desire it."

William Brewster glanced at his companion, the man who had led in prayer, with some perplexity. *' What do you say. Master Robinson? " he queried.

" If he desires light upon the truth," he replied, " or religious instruction or consolation, we must not refuse to offer him all that lies within our power, but if he come hither out of idle curiosity or worse, he cannot wonder that we do not welcome him. What is your opinion, friends and brethren? Master Clyfton, Master Bradford, what shall we say?"

The two addressed, one of whom was a very young man indeed, looked at each other, and then the elder arose to his feet.

" Is it lawful for us to meet with those who are not of our persuasion?" he said slowly. ^' By joining with them or they with us in the true worship of God, do we not by this allow that their acts are right, and connive at their sin? And so do we also become guilty of the same sin."

Master Loveland had arisen also. " Nay, I would not cause you any qualms of conscience — not even the slightest doubt in the breast of the least among you,"

he exclaimed. " Nor need you fear any III report which I might spread concerning you. I surmise well enough of what sort this meeting Is, and know a little of what some of your friends have endured. You have separated from the Church of England and set up a private worship here. Barrowe and Greenwood and their Imprisonment have reached my ears, and I had understood that there were Brownlst congregations In this vicinity. As for myself, I am neither with you nor against you. Religion sits but idle upon my stomach, and I would as soon be a Turk as a Brownlst. It Is true I am Interested In these strange dissensions, these religious fevers which do attack men, and have been much entertained by this brief glimpse of your company. But I am ever glad to see men prosper rather than suffer, and should be as sorry as you to have any harm arise from my Intrusion. Master Brewster and your friends, allow me to depart now without more ado, for I have Interrupted your service longer already than I would, and may the part which remains more than compensate you for that which has been lost through my coming."

So saying. Master Loveland, with his most courtly bow, withdrew, the men and women all rising with bows and courtesies as he passed out.

And so with Master Loveland we have gotten our first glimpse of some of the heroes about whom we are to hear. The following morning he rode out once more upon the Great North Road ; on toward Scotland, past hamlet and river, field and forest, northward toward Edinburgh. Through sunshine and rain, by noon and late at night, he rode, and at length arrived again In the crowded streets and narrow ways of a great city. Far behind him in the little village of Scrooby, he left the serious, pious little congregation, and amid the rush of other things they soon slipped from his mind. But during that peaceful Sabbath morning he had come near the beginnings of a great movement, the first dawn of a new conception of truth which was to reach across a mighty stretch of waters, and illumine the civilization of the new world.

II

A PERIOD of severe testing lay before the little congregation which Thomas Loveland had so surprised in the old manor-house at Scrooby. Hitherto they had lived comparatively unnoticed, careful in their new form of worship not to attract the attention of any bishop or official who might disapprove of their separation from the state church, and the little company had grown fast both in numbers and in mutual helpfulness. They trusted one another Implicitly; no man there but was ready to share his living with any brother or sister who was needy; not one who was not moved by an Inspiring purpose which was stronger than the love of life Itself. In that little church every heart was noble, every man a hero.

The king had at length awakened to the full realization of their presence and the bishops were only too ready to urge him on to deeds of persecution. In the words of one of the Separatists themselves, " they could not long continue in any peaceable condition, but were hunted & persecuted on every side, so as their former afflictions were but as flea-bitings in comparison of these which now came upon them. For some were taken & clapt up in prison, others had their houses besett and watcht night and day, & hardly escaped their hands; and ye most were faine to flie & leave their houses & habitations, and the means of their livelehood. Yet these & many other sharper things which af fterward befell them, were no other than they looked for, and therefore were ye better prepared to bear them by ye assistance of Gods grace & spirite." ^

But these things could not always be borne or the little community would have been annihilated, so it was decided at length that the congregation should emigrate in a body to Holland, where there was religious toleration and liberty of conscience. Now the strangest thing in the whole matter was the fact that, while the Separatists were threatened with exile if they persisted in worshiping by themselves instead of attending the regular worship in the state church, still when they desired to go away quietly all together they were not able to get permission, but were compelled to steal away if possible without attracting any notice from the officers or any one unfriendly to them.

A large party made an attempt to escape in the fall, and hired a ship which they were to have wholly for

^ ** History of Plimouth Plantation," pp. 14, 15, their own use. But the captain was unfaithful, and, after they had taken their hard journey to the sea and got on board, he betrayed them all Into the hands of officers, who searched them and took away all their possessions, and then cast them Into prison, where some of them were obliged to remain for a time.

But nothing destroyed the purpose of this dauntless little church, and In the spring they decided to make another attempt. One or two of the leaders when at Hull on business happened to become acquainted with a Dutchman who owned a boat of his own, and at last they decided to take him Into their confidence and seek his help.

As It proved he was willing to undertake the adventure, the bargain was soon made, and the date set for sailing. Most of the little company must have been In readiness since their attempted escape the fall before, and had lived along In as easy a manner as might be, waiting for another opportunity to present Itself, so that the final preparations were soon made for a second attempt at flight.

In the midst of all the packing and preparations of the Separatist Church for the journey to Holland came the Sabbath, a day of beauty and peace amid the stress of work and anxiety, and, faithful to their standard of right, the Pilgrims kept It truly and without toll, despite all the duties which pressed them. Pastor Clyfton preached a long sermon In the morning, and loth to part from the meeting-place where so many had found their beloved Christ, they assembled once more in the evening for a brief service of prayer and praise. But even that at last came to an end, and one after another the little company passed lingeringly out.

Among the last was a young man, apparently not more than eighteen years of age, whose open, ingenuous face, and observant, quick glance would have attracted attention in almost any company. He stood beside the doorway talking to a young woman while they awaited the coming of some of the elders who had paused in a little group behind for a few last words.

^' Now Cometh the time of testing again," said the maiden seriously. " In a few more hours the suspense will be over.''

" Yes," replied the young man. " I have been very doubtful, Alice, of our wisdom in trying to cross in so large a company. It is less lonely, of course. Some of the brethren hardly know how to go about so long a journey, and it would be a fine thing for all to land together in the new home. But since our attempted escape last fall, I have very much doubted as to whether it can be done."

" You were one of those who suffered most. Master Bradford," said the girl, looking up at him with sympathetic eyes. " I heard about the prison, and though it is not a matter to speak about overmuch, I have often

i8 m^gjm^g^t.

wished I might tell you how sorry I was that you were obliged to undergo such hardships."

William Bradford looked admiringly at the closecapped maiden beside him in her long cloak, but when she turned her serious gray eyes upon him, his own fell, as he stammered somewhat awkwardly his thanks. Alice Carpenter was a tall woman, one of those who by the erectness of her carriage and the seriousness of her bearing appeared already to be a woman upon whose strength a discouraged or weaker sister might lean. She was one of four sisters who lived in the large house at the corner opposite the chapel with her father and mother, Alexander and Elisabeth Carpenter. Alexander Carpenter was one of the capable men of the community, and his four daughters filled an important place in the little congregation of Scrooby, for they were consecrated, earnest Christians, as well as self-reliant women of an unusually brilliant and noble type. Alice Carpenter was the leader of the four, and was especially beloved by every one in the parish, among whom were not wanting many suitors for her hand, although she was still very young. One of these, Edward Southworth, was an especial friend of her father's family, and usually enjoyed the privilege of being her escort, — a privilege which the younger man, William Bradford, who was still little more than a boy, accepted with great pride whenever Master Southworth was compelled to be absent.

Alice Carpenter had always taken a peculiar interest in the young fellow who, unprompted by any family friends, — nay, on the contrary hindered by them — had of his own accord tramped Sabbath after Sabbath across the fields from Austerfield to the meeting of the Separatists in Scrooby. It was no half-hearted interest which he had shown, and he had become no lukewarm member, for the previous fall, when the proposed escape to Holland had finally been attempted, he had thrown in his fortune with the rest, leaving his business matters, as he was not yet of age, more or less in the hands of his incensed uncles, and had endured his part of trial by prison as well as the elders themselves. He was of true steel, this young man from Austerfield, and like an elder sister, although there was but little difference in their ages, Alice Carpenter showed him her sympathy and admiration, and it was to her, as well as to her father, that he had often turned for help and counsel.

" You had very little cause to pity me, after all," William Bradford said confusedly. " I was shut up for only a month while Master Brewster and some of the others were held a great deal longer. Besides, I had no family cares weighing upon my mind, and a young man can always adapt himself to a little adventure, or at least ought to be able to do so."

" Yes, I suppose so," replied Alice Carpenter. " I only hope that we women may not prove a fetter in the

^4(m\mimmt(r\\: m present undertaking. We must take up the part of adventurers too, and try to catch a little of your spirit, seeing we have left the needle and the spinning-wheel behind us for a time. But here comes Edward Southworth. God be with you until the morrow."

" And with you, too," replied the young man earnestly and as Alice Carpenter left the manor-house chapel he watched her cross the driveway and disappear into the darkness.

It still lacked two hours of sunrise when William Bradford and the rest tramped out of the town the following morning and their departure was very quiet. When daylight came the company broke up into groups of twos and threes in order that they might attract the less notice, and so with packs over their shoulders, some by one path, some by another, taking short cuts as often as possible, they slipped along from village to village. It seemed like merely a spring walk at first as William Bradford struck out gayly with his friend Thomas Tinker, across the fields with their fresh, green coat of grass, adorned here and there with the spring violets.

But the pack on his back grew heavier, and with it his heart, as they proceeded, leaving behind them one familiar village after another, and allowed themselves silence to think for a little of the enterprise they were attempting. Their thoughts could not rest wholly upon their own danger, moreover, for at the same time the women were being conveyed together with their goods by boat down the Idle to the mouth of the Trent, whence they were to go by bark, around the coast, past Hull towards Great Grimsby. Here in a little creek, near a large common, at some distance from the town, they were to be met by the captain and taken aboard. Could the two companies, the one comprising the men, and the still larger one with the weak women and helpless children, possibly escape the diligence of their enemies, and would the captain keep faith with them or only betray them to the officers, as the English captain had done but a few months before?

" I doubt very much," said Thomas Tinker despondently, "If we ever succeed. Why, it would be little short of a miracle for so many people to leave the country together unnoticed ! Every farmer who sees us, every child even, will wonder why so many strangers are passing his way and when we reach the creek, if indeed we do, matters must be hurried to the utmost not to lose one Instant In getting water between us and the shore."

) " That Is true enough," replied William Bradford. " We must do our very best to make haste at the last. But notwithstanding everything, our affairs are In God's hands, and If we should be caught, they would doubtless but send most of us back to our homes again, or else to exile, which Is the very thing we are seeking. Perhaps we shall be facing home again, Brother Tinker, within a few days only."

William Bradford's face lighted up as if the thought were not wholly unpleasant after all, but his companion looked at him with anxiety.

" We should be sorely disappointed," he said. *' But come. Master Bradford, is not this the right hand turning just beyond the river, which Master Brewster told us to take ? We must keep up a sharper pace, too, or our friends will be overtaking us and we shall not reach the grove in time for our share of lunch. Who put up your basket of provisions for you, William? "

" Mistress Elisabeth May," replied William Bradford; "and Mistress Alice Carpenter added some of her sweet flat cakes, which have the caraway seeds strewn on them. Perhaps you may have tasted them at some time."

" Oh, yes," replied Thomas Tinker, " every one in Scrooby knows Mistress Carpenter's flat cakes. Edward Southworth will have fine dinners if he win the heart of that maid. But we must not talk too much, and save some breath for that steep hill yonder. My bundle is growing heavier, too, with every mile, and I think we shall need all our patience before the day's march is over."

It was a tired company indeed that rested, some of them in the woods, some in an old barn near Caistor that night, and a still more weary band that arrived at the little creek near Grimsby on the following morning. The sun was already high in the heavens when they came within sight of the shore, where they hoped to find the women and children perhaps already aboard the bark, so that nothing would remain to be done except to join them.

What was their disappointment, then, to see no large ship awaiting them, but on the other hand the boat which had borne their families and possessions down the shore to meet them stranded in shallow water, as if it had no notion of ever going out into the waves again.

"What can have happened?" exclaimed Master Brewster in great dismay. '' Run, Will, and see if you can wade out far enough to get to her, and hear what has happened. I hope there has been no accident."

With rolled-up trousers William Bradford set out, jumping carefully from stone to stone, and managed at last to reach the little sailing-boat where he scrambled up to the deck. There, sitting and reclining in various ways against the sides of the boat or boxes of goods, he saw many of the women he knew, whose pale and worn faces told him their journey also had not been an easy one.

"What IS the matter. Mistress Carpenter?" he asked as that tall young woman hurried past him, a steaming cup in one hand and a towel in the other. " Why are you all caught thus up here upon the shore, when we had hoped to be aboard the captain's vessel before long? '*

" And where is the vessel which you expected to see us boarding? " replied Alice Carpenter. " It is true we are caught just now, and have got to wait for the tide to lift us, but we could do nothing else except wait, even if we were out there, where last night the wind tossed the boat about like a cork. No, 'tis nothing but seasickness — commonplace seasickness which has driven us in here, but you need not frown or laugh either, Master Bradford."

" I was not frowning," protested William Bradford. " Only the women should not have let so small a thing be the cause of any risk to our plan."

" Oh, I know you are not frowning outwardly, but you men are all so apt to think us weak, and that we yield unnecessarily to trifles. No, I was not sick — here, Agnes, answer that for me — but some of the women, and the children, too, were truly so ill that I was very fearful for them. And if the men had been in our situation I know they would at least have been in as much of a hurry as we were to get to a quieter place. But how did your party get through — ^without any adventures at all?"

" Yes, very quietly," replied William Bradford. " We — but look there ! There is the Dutchman's ship coming this moment around the bend ! Oh, would you were out In the bay now, so that we could all be aboard and off in an hour! "

Alice Carpenter looked where the young man pointed, and her look of half-laughing excuse faded. " Oh, I wish we were ! " she exclaimed earnestly. " How long will it take, do you think, for the tide to raise us? "

" Three hours at least." Together they stood gazing eagerly upon the advancing ship.

" She looks seaworthy," said Alice Carpenter. " I am so glad the captain has kept his word to us, but how I wish we had not gotten into this predicament! If we could all have gone aboard from this boat, and then it could have gathered you men from off the shore, we could have been ready to start soon."

" That was what we planned," said William Bradford seriously. " But It cannot be helped. Now I must make haste back to Elder Brewster, for I have already delayed longer than I should, talking. They are all very anxious over there to hear just what the trouble was."

" Seasickness — ^just a little seasickness," said Alice Carpenter mournfully. William Bradford smiled a little — the defensive words of excuse had changed so quickly to regret and self-accusation after the ship had appeared. Then he waded out into the water.

Much anxiety prevailed on shore when he explained the situation, for every moment of delay now added tenfold to their peril.

A boat sent out by the Dutch captain carried one or two of the elders to the ship, where they discussed the chances of getting aboard.

" There Is nothing that we can do except to send the small boat backward and forward, taking the men off as swiftly as possible, and hoping that by the time we have finished, the boat where the women are may be afloat," said the Dutch captain. " It is no fault of theirs. The man who managed her should have seen to It that he was not caught In such manner. All right, men," he shouted. " Pull over to the shore again, and bring out another party."

The Dutch ship lay of necessity some way from the land, and the row seemed long, but it was not a great while before a few more men reached the vessel, among them William Bradford. He was the last to scramble up to the deck, and just as his foot touched the planks, he was astonished to hear the burly voice of the captain swearing roundly.

" Sacremente ! " he exclaimed. " The officers have caught us," and without waiting for consultation or thought, for which indeed there was no time, he ordered his man to hoist the boat, pull up anchor, spread sail, and before William Bradford realized what had happened the ship was in motion. Behind them on the shore he saw a company of armed men together with an excited crowd of onlookers advancing upon his friends. The latter, after standing firm in a body for a moment, broke and scattered, running hither and thither like so many excited sheep, so that the officers succeeded in capturing only a few of them. All this occupied but a few minutes, and as the vessel rounded the bend of land, William Bradford saw a company of officers turn down the shore toward the boat.

** They are after the women and children,'' exclaimed Master AUerton, beside himself, sinking down with his head buried in his hands. " To think that I am safe aboard this miserable ship, while my wife is left there to endure their fury ! Captain, turn this vessel about to shore ! I want to go back."

" Not I," said the captain. " If you but stop to consider a moment you can see that it would be madness. Your friends were wise people to scatter, and so you are also to flee, if possible. For what can the officials do with a company of blameless women and children? There is no law by which they can be condemned, and they will find opportunity to join you, if you yourselves, the real offenders in the eyes of the law, can but once reach Holland. Cheer up, friends. We have got as well out of this pickle as any one could hope after that foolish grounding of the bark, and even if it were not so, I would not turn back, to let them get a clutch of me, for more money than you can offer. So bear off, boys, bear away now. We've a good wind, and away we go."

The captain's words, although they seemed but cold comfort to the ears of Master Allerton, were for the most part full of common sense. The men had indeed scattered, each for himself, as they knew that not one of them could help another even if they lingered, while each one who escaped might possibly be of service.

So but few of them were taken, and the women and children, together with all their possessions, were the greatest part of the capture. They were all thoroughly searched, and everything available carried off by the officers, after which they were thrown into prison to await the decision of the courts. In the words of William Bradford, '' Being thus aprehended, they were hurried from one place to another, and from one justice to another, till In ye ende they knew not what to doe with them ; for to imprison so many women & innocent children for no other cause (many of them) but that they must goe with their husbands, semed to be unreasonable and all would crie out of them; and to send them home againe was as difficult, for they aledged, as ye trueth was, they had no homes to goe to, for they had either sould, or otherwise disposed of their houses & livings.

" To be shorte, after they had been thus turmolyed a good while, and conveyed from one constable to another, they were glad to be ridd of them in ye end upon any termes; for all were wearied & tired with them.

'' Though in ye meantime they (poore soules) indured miserie enough; and thus in ye end necessitie forste a way for them! " ^

Now, as for the men in the Dutch captain's vessel, they were indeed in no enviable condition. All their goods in most cases had been stowed away in the boat where the women were, so that they were left absolutely destitute, some without money, and some without change of clothing, or many of the seeming necessities of life. Their great venture had failed; their wives and children were in prison, suffering they knew not what ; they themselves were on the way without friends to an unknown land, where the most they could hope for was but a bare subsistence, to be wrested from this strange people, by occupations to which they were wholly unaccustomed. No wonder that their hearts were faint, and that they had need of all their Christian fortitude and trust in God.