Madam Faith heard his message as the pastor read it from the tall pulpit under the sounding-board.
She thought of the scarlet cloak. She must wear it to the church on that great day to honor Rochambeau and the soldiers of Auvergne. But of what use could her garment be to the soldiers in the stress of war?
It was a bright mid-autumn day. The people were gathering on the harvest-laden plateau on Lebanon Hill. The church on the high green, founded some eighty years before, opened its doors to the sun. The yeomen gathered on its steps and looked down on the orchards and harvest fields. The men of the great farms assembled in groups about the inn and talked of the fortunes of the war. They were rugged men in homespun dress, with the purpose of the time in their faces. The women, too, were in homespun.
While groups of people were gathering here and there the door of the Governor’s plain house opened, and in it appeared Madam Faith in her scarlet cloak. All eyes were turned upon her. She stepped out on to the green. She did not look like the true daughter of the Pilgrims that she was! The gay and glittering garment did not become the serious purpose in her face.
She waited outside the door, and was soon joined by the Governor. The two approached the church under the gaze of many eyes, and entered the building, which is to-day in appearance much as it was then, and the people followed them. The chair in which Governor Trumbull sat in church is still to be seen in the old Trumbull house. A colored picture of the church as it then appeared, with its high pulpit, sounding-board and galleries, may be seen in Stuart’s “Life of Trumbull.”
A silence fell upon the assembly. The people felt that the crisis of the war had passed with the coming of Rochambeau, but the manner of the issue was yet doubtful.
The minister arose—“Be still, and know that I am the Lord.”
“God is the refuge of His saints,