CHAPTER XXI.
Alas! to see the strength that clings
Round woman in such hours!
A mournful sight,
Though lovely! an o'erflowing of the springs,
The full springs of affection, deep and bright!
And she, because her life is ever twined
With other lives, and by no stormy wind
May thence be shaken; and because the light
Of tenderness is round her, and her eye
Doth weep such passionate tears—therefore,
She thus endures.' HEMANS.
Without any guide, Roger and his faithful friend Seaton wandered through the wilderness. They took from the stranded boat as much of food and other useful articles as they could carry; but the provision did not last long, and before they reached any Indian encampment they were seduced to extreme want and suffering. Their clothes were drenched by the frequent heavy rain, which so completely saturated the ground and the dead branches that lay strewed upon it, as often to preclude all possibility of lighting a fire. Their nights were passed on the damp ground, or beneath any sheltering rock that they could find and once a hollow tree afforded them a refuge from the storm that raged around them, when no other was at hand.
At length, after fourteen weeks of trial and hardship, they reached the village of Packanokick, where dwelt Masasoyt, the aged Sagamore of the Wampanoges. During the time that Williams had resided at Plymouth, he had learnt the language of the natives; and on some of his visits to the village of Mooanam, he had become acquainted with his father, Masasoyt, the chief Sachem of the divided tribe. The regard and respect with which his eloquence and his attractive manners had inspired the younger Chieftain were fully shared by the Sagamore; and both prince and people learnt to love and reverence the man who honored their rights, respected their prejudices, and prayed to his God for their welfare.
His appearance in the village of Masasoyt was hailed with joy, and regarded as a privilege by all the inhabitants. The Sachem received both him and is way-worn companion with kindness and hospitality, and gave them a chamber in his own lodge; which, if not remarkable either for cleanliness or comfort, yet seemed a luxurious abode to men who had passed so many days and nights in the unsheltered depths of the forest.
On the following morning, when food and rest had somewhat restored the exhausted strength of the travelers, Masasoyt invited Williams to a private conference, in which he informed him that a serious quarrel had again arisen between his tribe and that of Cundineus, the Chief of the Narragansetts; and he entreated him to use all his powerful influence with the latter to heal the present dissension, and prevent the dispute from ending in open hostilities. Williams undertook this negotiation with much satisfaction; for peace-making was not only in accordance with his feelings, and with the duty of his profession, but he also desired to secure the favor and protection of the Narragansett Chief, on the borders of whose dominions he designed to fix his future home. He, therefore, made no delay in setting out, with a few Indian attendants, on the proposed expedition and in a few days, returned to Packanokick with the welcome intelligence that the wrath of Cundincus was appeased, and that he had listened favorably to the explanation of his rival Chieftain.
The old Narragansett Chief also was so captivated by the English stranger, and so won by his peculiar eloquence, that we are told that 'the barbarous heart of the old prince loved him like a son to his latest breath'; and his nephew and co-ruler, the young Miantonomo, also regarded him as a friend, and placed in him a perfect confidence.
'Let no one,' thankfully exclaimed Williams in his diary, 'mistrust
Providence—these ravens fed me in the wilderness!'
But inactive repose was neither the wish nor the lot of Roger Williams; and he earnestly desired to reach the spot where he proposed to found his new settlement, and prepare a home for his beloved Edith; and from whence, also, he hoped to be able to send a letter to Salem or to Plymouth, which might allay the anxious fears that he well knew she had so long been enduring. Since he had received the letter that Seaton brought him from his high-minded wife, he had not had any opportunity of conveying to her the intelligence of his own safety; or of hearing from her whether her strength and spirits were supported under the protracted trial of absence and anxiety. He knew, also, that ere this time he had reason to believe himself a father; and his heart yearned to be assured of the welfare of his wife and child, and to see them safely lodged beneath the shelter of his own roof. It was a source of extreme consolation to him, under all his feelings of anxiety, to believe that his Edith had been cheered and supported by the presence of Dame Elliot and her excellent husband, who, he felt assured, would not leave her until she could be removed either to Plymouth or to her husband's new abode: and to their kind care, and the protection of his heavenly Father, he was contented to leave her, while he used every effort to procure for her a safe and happy home, in which he could hope, ere long, to welcome her.
He, therefore, lost no time in concluding a bargain with Masasoyt for a piece of land in the district called Seacomb[*], not far from the east arm of Narragansett Bay; and thither he proceeded with Seaton, and commenced building and planting. From this place, he found means to convey intelligence, both to Salem and Plymouth, of the safe termination of his perilous journey, and his intention to fix his settlement on the piece of ground that he had purchased. His messengers returned, after a considerable interval, and brought him a letter from his now joyful wife, which gladdened his heart with the welcome news of her health and safety; and that also of his little daughter Edith. This name, she told him, had been given to the infant in accordance with what she knew to be his wish; and his friend John Elliot—who, with his wife, had resided chiefly at Salem since his departure—had performed the rite of baptism. She further informed him that Governor Bradford, on hearing of her lonely position, had kindly promised to send a vessel for her; and, as the severity of winter had already partially subsided, she was in daily expectation of the arrival of the pinnace, which would carry her back to the happy home of her youth; and then she hoped the time would not be long until she could rejoin her husband, and once more be at peace.