The Pilgrims of New England / A Tale of the Early American Settlers

by Mrs. J. B. Webb

The moment of parting came; but we will not describe it. It was borne by Edith as a devoted Christian wife can bear anything that is necessary for the safety and welfare of her husband. But when he was gone, and her swimming eyes could no longer see his beloved form, or catch his last signal of farewell, the whole desolation of her own position burst upon her: and Edith was, for a time, bowed down with grief. She felt herself alone in the world, and she shrank from seeking comfort or sympathy from any human being who was then near her. But friends whom she could not then expect to see were near, and the wounded heart found a balm and a consolation beyond its hopes.

The very evening after Roger's departure, Edith's spirit was cheered by the arrival of Elliot and his wife at her now dreary home. O, how she welcomed them! and how deeply they sympathized in her distress and anxiety! They had heard of the last summons that had been sent from the General Assembly; and had hastened to Salem, in spite of the severity of the weather to offer any assistance or counsel that might be needed by either Roger or Edith. They rejoiced, with much thankfulness, when they heard of his having escaped the cruel vengeance of his adversaries; but their minds were filled with fear and anxiety, when they reflected on the many perils that he might encounter on his long journey, and the sufferings from cold, and hunger, and fatigue, that he must endure in his present debilitated state of health. They did not, however, add to Edith's anxiety by telling of their own, but exerted themselves to cheer and rouse her, and lead her to place a perfect trust in the over-ruling care of Him, without whose permission not even a sparrow can fall to the ground.

The wisdom of the plan that Edith had persuaded her husband to adopt was soon but too apparent; for, in a few days, a pinnace arrived at Salem, bringing an officer and attendants, who were commissioned by the General Assembly to seize on the offending pastor, and convey him on board a vessel that was lying at Nantasket, ready for sea. But this cruel and arbitrary intention was happily frustrated. The officer came to the dwelling of Williams, and had the mortification of finding that he had been gone three days; nor could all his threats or persuasions obtain from any of the inmates the least information concerning his flight. He also sought out, and strictly interrogated, several of the inhabitants of Salem, who were known to be the partisans of this persecuted friend of liberty. But, although they were well acquainted with his sudden departure and his destination, and some of the younger men were even preparing to follow him, not one of them betrayed their respected leader.

The officer therefore returned to Boston, to report the ill-success of his errand, which excited much wrath and vexation in the members of the Assembly, but afforded secret satisfaction to the amiable Governor Winthrop, who had unwillingly submitted to the decision of a large majority of the government, and who had kindly exerted himself to rescue from a cruel and unjust fate the man whose only fault consisted in a determination to think for himself.

Meanwhile, the fugitive was pursuing his slow and difficult way through the woods and wilds to the south of Salem. But whither should he direct his steps? Every road out of the district must lead him through the territory of his foes and persecutors; and he dared not show in any of the hamlets or villages, where his person and reputation were well known, lest he should be seized and given up to the magistrates of Boston. He, therefore, traveled chiefly by night, guided by the moon and stars, and lay concealed in some damp covert, or rocky ravine, during the day. The small stock of provisions that Edith had placed in his knapsack was soon expended, and for some days he subsisted on the nuts and berries that still remained on the trees.

At length he felt himself safe from immediate pursuit, and changed his course suddenly to the east. He emerged from the shelter of the woods, and, hurrying across the open plain that skirted the bay, he found himself at the spot which he desired to reach. This was a little cove on the shore, surrounded on the land side by rocks, and only capable of receiving a small boat into its tranquil harbor. As Roger approached the water's edge, and stepped round the last point of rock that concealed the inlet, he made a signal, which, to his great joy, was instantly replied to from within. Day was just dawning over the far horizon, and a dim twilight shone on the smooth and boundless ocean that spread to the east. A few light strokes of an oar fell on Roger's ear, and then he saw the white spray, and the dark form of a boat emerging from the gloomy cavern that was formed by the overhanging rocks. In a moment his hand was grasped in that of a friend, and all his sense of loneliness vanished away.

Seaton entreated him to lose no time in entering the boat, and leaving the inhospitable shores of Massachusetts; and Williams gladly obeyed him. The little shallop, which his friends at Salem had secretly purchased, and sent by one of the most devoted of their number to meet him at the appointed place, was well supplied with provisions and warm clothing, which proved a most seasonable relief to Roger; but the most acceptable part of its contents was a letter from Edith, informing him of the welcome arrival of their friends, the Elliots, at Salem, and of the futile efforts of the men of Boston to make him a prisoner. Edith wrote more cheerfully than she felt; and she spoke of the happy time when they would be reunited, and of her hopes that it was not far distant, assuring him that she was willing—and trusted, ere long, to be able—to follow him to any spot where he might fix his home.

This letter, and the refreshment with which Seaton furnished him, raised his drooping and exhausted spirits; and, at his friend's request, he wrapped himself in the large boat-cloak that his provident wife had sent for him and lay down to enjoy the first calm and undisturbed repose that had been permitted to him since he left his beloved home.

Silently and rapidly the little boat glided over the calm surface of the bay; and, ere long, it was opposite to the harbor of Boston, and might be espied by some of the vessels lying there, Roger still slept the deep sleep of exhaustion and security; but Seaton now required his aid, and reluctantly aroused him to take a second oar, and speed the shallop past the region of danger. Roger sprang to his feet, and seized the oar, and the boat darted forward from the impulse of his now fresh and powerful arm. It passed near several boats belonging to the Bostoners; but the fugitive drew his large Spanish hat over his brows, and hid his well-known form and dress beneath the folds of the ample cloak, and thus escaped detection or observation.

It was his intention to row down the bay as far as New Plymouth, where he designed to visit Edith's parents and apprise them of all that had befallen him; and also endeavor to prevail on Bradford to send a vessel, as soon as the inclemency of the weather had subsided, to bring his wife to her paternal home. He then proposed to go on with Seaton, and any of the Plymouthers who would accompany him, and seek a settlement further to the south, in some part of Narragansett Bay. But this scheme was not permitted to be carried out.