Soldier Rigdale: How He Sailed in the Mayflower and How He Served Miles Standish

by Beulah Marie Dix

  CHAPTER III

  THIEVISH HARBOR

  ONE sharp December afternoon, a week and a day after the Pilgrimleaders went forth the third time to seek a place for settlement, LoveBrewster and his little brother Wrestling climbed down to the cabinsbeneath the main deck to visit their playmate, Dolly Rigdale. The cubbywhere Dolly and Miles and their father and mother had lived during thetwo months of the voyage over the sea and the five weeks of explorationthat followed, was a dim box of a place, but the little boys liked tovisit it, not only to talk with Dolly, who was nearer their age thanmost of the children in the company, but to see Trug and Solomon.

  Trug was the big, grizzled mastiff, who had guarded the house and thecattle faithfully for so many years that even stern John Rigdale hadnot the heart to leave him to strangers; and Solomon, with the wiseeyes of royal yellow, was the fat house-cat, whom Dolly had insisted onbringing with her to the new home.

  "If it had been my pet, 'twould 'a' had to bide in England," Miles hadtold himself, in one bitter, jealous moment, of which he was justlyashamed. For, without question, Goodman Rigdale cared equally for histwo children, only he held Miles, being a stubborn chip of manhood,needed frequent beatings, such as the Scriptures enjoined on goodfathers to give their sons, whereas Dolly was just a little wench, withgray eyes like her mother, so she received very gentle whippings andtriumphantly lugged Solomon on shipboard.

  The sleek, striped creature lay beside her now, for Dolly, still ailingwith her cough, was resting on the bunk beneath the blankets. WrestlingBrewster, a big-eyed, silent child, sat by her, and, sorry to tell,joined forces with the little girl in rumpling poor Solomon's fur. "Youare the best pussy," Dolly purred meantime, and, either because of herflattery or because the warm blankets were comfortable, the cat made nomovement to leave her.

  Ordinarily Miles sniffed at the conversation of eight-year-olds, suchas his sister, but this afternoon he gladly lingered in the cabin, forthe accomplishments of the Brewster lads were amazing enough to liftthem to the rank of companions. Both could jabber Dutch quite as fastas Miles could speak English, and Love, the talkative one, could tellwonderful stories of the queer Low Country city of Leyden, where allhis short life had been spent. It was of Leyden he spoke now, sittingbeside Miles on the turned-up mattress, where at night Goodman Rigdaleand his son slept, and Miles, with a question here and there to drawout what he sought, listened again to the story of the Pilgrims.

  Love had good reason to know it well, for his father, Elder Brewster,had been from the first one of the leaders of the little company. Hehad given all his substance to help the cause of that faith which thebishops of the great Established Church of England held it right tocrush out; he had suffered imprisonment for the sake of that faith;and finally, that he and his friends might worship God as they thoughtbest, had gone into exile in Holland.

  There for twelve years the Pilgrim church held its own, though itsmembers, for all their efforts to support themselves in that strangecountry, fared hardly and poorly. Good Deacon Fuller, the physician,had been glad to earn his living as a say or serge maker; MasterWilliam Bradford had been a maker of fustian; and the Elder hadmaintained his family and aided his poorer companions by teachingEnglish to Danish and German gentlemen, and later by printing Englishbooks.

  Love told also of Master Carver, the recently elected governor of thecompany, who had given his whole fortune to the Pilgrim cause; andhe spoke of gallant Master Edward Winslow, who, travelling in the LowCountries with his newly married wife, had come to know and to respectthe Pilgrim folk and finally to cast in his lot with theirs. And, bestof all, Love could tell of Captain Standish.

  There the boy turned to what Miles had been waiting to hear, and besure that now he eagerly drank in each word: how the Captain came ofa great family in Lancashire, where he had a vast estate which hiskinsfolk had taken from him,--so Love had once heard him say to theElder; how he had fought bravely against the wicked Spaniards, as farback as the time of Queen Bess, when Miles Standish was a very youngman indeed; and how, of a sudden, he had come with his young wife andjoined himself to the Pilgrims, why, none could say, for he was "not ofour faith," Love gravely quoted the older people.

  That last did not greatly displease Miles, perhaps because his ownfather was rather a Puritan than an ardent Separatist, as those werecalled who, like the Pilgrims of Leyden, broke off all communion withthe Established Church. Goodman John Rigdale grumbled about the bishopsand the vestments of the clergymen and other matters which Milesneither heeded nor comprehended, but, for all his grumbling, as oftenas the law insisted, he and his household went to church. One of thefirst and liveliest recollections of childhood which Miles kept, was ofhow the red light from the painted windows that his father hated usedto shift along the dark oak of the old pews.

  Lately, though, John Rigdale had spoken out too openly against theservice book, and there had been a citation before the ecclesiasticalcourt. Miles scarcely understood the matter, but he knew that Dun-face,the pet heifer, had been sold to pay a fine, and that their landlord,swearing that he was too good a Church of England man to suffer apestilent Separatist hold a farm of him, had refused to renew thelease, bought long ago by Miles's grandfather, which now ran out.

  Then had come Master Stephen Hopkins, the London tanner, whose firstwife had been a distant cousin of John Rigdale's, and he had talked ofthe new country over seas, where a man might have land and a farm ofhis own for the asking and worship to please his conscience, not theking's bishops. Master Hopkins had already made up his mind to embarkwith the people from Leyden; he had met their agent, Master Cushman,and he was acquainted with some of the London merchants who hadformed a partnership with the Leyden people, the Londoners to furnishmoney to pay the expenses of the long voyage, the Separatists to givethemselves and their families to defend and till the plantation thusgained.

  In the end, Master Hopkins's statements were so weighty that GoodmanRigdale followed his example. The stout farm horse and the cows and thepigs were all led away to market, and Dolly cried over each one; andGoodwife Rigdale, too, wept a little when most of the bits of furniturewere sold. But Miles thought it all very merry and stirring,--thebreaking up of the home he had known, the journey to Southampton, allamidst new sights and sounds, and the ship, and the long voyage overthe sea, till the _Mayflower_ dropped anchor off Cape Cod.

  He was more than a bit weary of the voyage and the ship now, however,as he sat on the turned-up mattress in his father's stuffy littlecabin. The dead air was cold without being bracing, and Miles brokeshort Love's discourse on the journey of the Leyden Pilgrims intoEngland, by springing up and stamping his chilled feet.

  "It _is_ a shrewd cold day," said his companion. "See!" He puffed atthe air, and his breath made a little white cloud. "Maybe we'd best goup on deck and run."

  At that word the two older boys turned to the door, but Wrestling shookhis head and, pressing closer to Dolly, whispered: "Before I go, I wantthat you show me the Indian basket."

  Miles overheard, and delayed to draw from beneath the bunk the deal boxin which the treasure was kept. Wrestling was so young that he seemedhardly more than a baby, and as a baby Miles had a kindly, protectingfeeling for him; when he rose with the box he opened it so the littleboy might have the first sight. Within lay a tiny basket all of silkgrass, pictured on which in black and white were birds and flowers of acurious pattern.

  "Did your father truly bring it from the Indians?" Love asked.

  "He brought it home to me," Dolly explained proudly. "It was in anIndian house, and my father found it when he went ashore with CaptainStandish. And so he brought it to me."

  Wrestling touched the fragile thing gingerly. "I wish our father foughtthe Indians once," he murmured.

  "It is better to be an Elder," Love rebuked him sternly; then added,lest Dolly's feelings be hurt, "though, to be sure, there can be butone Elder in a company. The rest must be fighting men, must they not,Miles?"

  But Miles gave no heed; for just
then the sound of soft footsteps madehim glance to the open door, at which the light drifted in, and there,standing on the threshold, he saw his mother.

  Years afterward, when he looked back, Miles realized Goodwife Rigdalehad been a young woman then, not above thirty, but in those days itseemed to him she must be old, because she was his mother; he evenwondered that she had not hair streaked with gray, like MistressBrewster. Mothers were always old, he generalized rashly, just as theywere always gentle-spoken and full of kindness; only that last judgmenthe revoked, after he came aboard the _Mayflower_ and heard GoodwifeBillington, a true London virago, rail at her sons and saw her cuffthem.

  But his own mother was not to be belittled by naming her with EllenBillington; she was everything that was good and to be loved, evenif she did not wear such a brave gown as Mistress Winslow, nor havesuch pink cheeks as Mistress Standish. Miles drew away from the bunk,against which he had been leaning, to make room for her to sit, thoughhe did it awkwardly, because Love and Wrestling were looking.

  "I'll bide a bit now with my little maid," she said, as she drew theblankets more closely about Dolly. "You'll want to be running up ondeck now, I can guess, deary, and Love and Wrestling too, if MistressBrewster will suffer it."

  "Mother, is the shallop in sight?" Miles cried eagerly. For, since theexploring party sailed forth a week before, there had come so great astorm that hearts aboard the _Mayflower_ were not a little anxious fortheir welfare.

  "They've made out a sail to the southward, I heard the talk run. Go youand learn further, Miles. Your father will be on deck too."

  Miles reddened a little; why would she speak as if he were a young boy,to need his father? "Come, lads," he said, in a very old tone, to hidehis mortification, and led the way from the cabin. As he passed out atthe door, he heard a sorrowful wail from Dolly: "O me! Mammy, can I notrun about with them soon?"

  But Miles forgot Dolly's woes and all, when he clambered into thebracing air of the deck, whither the most of the hale ones of thecompany had, like himself, bustled to watch the approaching shallop.Shreds of dappled cloud half obscured the east, but low in the west thesun was cold and yellow, and its light flecked the water and made thesail of the distant craft gleam like gold.

  Miles stared till for very dazzle he could see no longer, then turnedhis gaze inboard, where it rested on the slender figure of a woman, wholeaned against the mainmast. When the light got out of his eyes, heperceived it was Mistress Rose Standish, who, while he was still gazingon her, came to the bulwark beside him, but, without seeming to seehim, stood looking toward the shallop.

  Once and again Miles glanced up at her, thinking how bonny she waswith the flush on her cheeks and her brown hair straying from beneathher hood across her forehead; and then he grew suddenly hot, for shechanced to look down, and their eyes met. He drew away bashfully andstared again at the shallop; the sun had now dropped lower, so thewaves around it were sombre, but within the boat sparkled a gleam oflight on metal armor. Miles almost thought to be able to distinguishthe forms of the men, and presently their faces. "Yon is the Captain,"he broke out, half aloud.

  "Do you see him, too?" Mistress Standish spoke, as if he had addressedher.

  "That's he, by the mast, with the steel corselet."

  She looked down again, and the boy noted her eyes were moist, thoughshe smiled as she said: "You seem to know the Captain very well, sir."

  "I'd know him anywhere," Miles answered earnestly. "You understand, hewas right kind to me."

  Then he broke off speech, for the shallop was now fairly alongside,and the men in her were calling to those on shipboard greetings andquestions and answers. Mistress Standish moved quickly toward thegangway, and Miles saw her meet the Captain, when he clambered up theladder.

  Next after him came Master William Bradford, and suddenly it struckwith a shock on Miles's remembrance that Mistress Bradford was dead,drowned alongside the _Mayflower_ on the very day after the shallopsailed, and her body carried away among the waves. Master Bradford,for all the weariness in his movements, looked cheerful and hopeful ashe gained the deck, and his eyes went glancing over the women gatheredthere with such a certainty of meeting one that, child though he was,Miles realized something of the pity of it.

  But after Elder Brewster had led Master Bradford away, the horror andthe pity slipped quickly from Miles. Drawing over closer to the gangwayladder, he stood watching the rest of the shallop's company scrambleto the deck, and, listening to every scrap of speech, was soon eageras any of the other boys in questioning the sailors and Hopkins's man,Dotey.

  The minutes ran on till dim twilight had darkened upon the water, whenat last, bursting with news, Miles clambered down again to GoodwifeRigdale in the cabin. "They've found a place for us to settle, mother,"he announced, barely within the door.

  Goodwife Rigdale hushed him with a finger on her lips; Dolly wasasleep, so he must speak softly.

  Miles curled himself up on the floor at his mother's feet, with hiselbow on her knee, and whispered: "'Tis at a place called ThievishHarbor--"

  "Nay, that's an ill name," commented the Goodwife.

  "'Tis because a savage stole a harpoon from a ship's boat that once putin there to truck, so says Robert Coppin, the pilot. It lies across agreat bay here, and there are fair green islands and many brooks andcleared land and tall trees. We are going thither, all of us, mother.The ship is to sail so soon as the wind favors. And if they like of iton further look, we'll go ashore and stay. I want to go ashore again,"he ended wistfully; "the week's out that father said I must stay onthe ship. Won't you beg him take me ashore first thing when we comethither, mother?"

  The flickering light that reached them from the lantern hung outsidethe cabin door was blotted out then, as Goodman Rigdale himself camein. Miles dared ask no favors of him directly, however, but, scramblingto his feet, stood silent and unobtrusive, though he listened eagerlyto all his father had to say of Thievish Harbor, which he calledPlymouth. "So it is named on the maps that were drawn by CaptainSmith," he said, to which Goodwife Rigdale answered quickly: "I am gladfor the name. Do you not have in mind, John, how kindly the peopleat our English Plymouth dealt by us when we had to put in at theirharbor?"

  But this new Plymouth in America bore little resemblance to Plymouthin Devonshire, as Miles found, to his surprise, when he had his firstsight of the place where the company was to settle. It was on theafternoon of the day succeeding the return of the shallop that, thewind at last favoring, the _Mayflower_ steered her course for the bayof Plymouth. The sunshine was strong and clear, and the air mild, soGoodwife Rigdale suffered Dolly come up on deck, where, well wrapped ina cloak, she stood between her mother and Miles.

  Others in plenty, all the passengers who could walk about, werewatching for a glimpse of the new home, but Miles, in his eagerness,scarcely heeded his companions. He strained his eyes to see theheadlands, brave with evergreen, loom higher and higher, and ran toquestion his friend, Giles Hopkins, who had been talking with thesailors, as to what they were. Giles explained that the one on the leftwas not the mainland, but a well-wooded point, and on the right yonderthe farther of the two islands, with the trees, was where the exploringparty had spent their Sabbath.

  By the time Miles returned to his mother with the news, they wererunning in between the point and the islands, and presently, wellwithin the harbor, they dropped anchor in a safe mooring ground. Allabout them were headlands and islands; far to the right, across thebay, rose a great hill; and just over opposite where the ship lay abroad space of open land, with high hills behind, could be made out.

  "Yonder's where we'll settle," Miles assured his mother.

  "I see no houses," protested Dolly. "I thought there would be cottages,maybe. Must we lie in the woods, mammy?"

  "Nonsense! We'll build houses," scoffed Miles; he would have blushedto own that, half unconsciously, he, too, had cherished the fancy ofseeing on the New England shore straggling streets and tiny cottages,as in old Plymouth.

 
"You'll build houses, Miles?" teased his sister.

  "Father and I and all the men," the boy bragged. "Build them of greatlogs. Then in the spring will come a ship with horses and cows andsheep, and we'll have farms, just as we had at home."

  "With a hedge round the dooryard?" Dolly questioned.

  "Yes, and meadow-land and ploughed fields. We'll have all in order whenthe frost leaves the ground," Miles answered confidently.

  Then he looked up at his mother, and was astonished to see that foronce her eyes were not on her children, but on the empty shore overopposite. Her face was wistful, and it came on Miles that perhaps shewas not as interested in the farm concerns as he, who was a man, so hesaid quickly: "And you can have a garden here, mother, full of rosemaryand daffadowndillies, just as at home. Maybe you'll not have to laborso hard here," he added more vaguely, not quite understanding hersilence.

  She smiled a little then. "That's a good lad, Miles," she said, puttingher arm about his shoulders; then she bade him go to his mates if hewould, and she led Dolly back to the cabin.

  Miles stood alone, gazing at the home-shore and wondering where hisfather's farm would lie. Still thinking on it, he was turning towardthe hatchway, when he almost ran into Goodman Rigdale. "O father,"Miles broke out before he thought, "may I not go with you when we beginour farm? I'll conduct me well and be obedient."

  He stopped, surprised at his own forwardness, and he was more surprisedwhen his father, looking down at him gravely, said without chiding:"Our farm? Ay, Miles, so soon as there is work to do on shore you shallcome with me and bear a hand."