A Pilgrim Maid: A Story of Plymouth Colony in 1620

by Marion Ames Taggart

  CHAPTER XIII

  Sundry Herbs and Simples

  Stephen Hopkins and his son drew no nearer together as the days went by.

  Hurt and angry, Giles would not bend his stiff young neck to humblehimself, checking any impulse to do so by reminding himself that hisfather had been unjust to him.

  Yet Doctor Fuller, good, kind, and wise, had the right of it when hesaid to the lad one day, laying his arm across Giles's shoulders,caressingly:

  "Remember, lad, that who is right, or who is wrong in a quarrel, or anestrangement, matters little, since we are all insects of a day and ourdignity at best a poor thing, measured by Infinite standards. But he isalways right who ends a quarrel; ten thousand times right if he does itat the sacrifice of his own sense of injury, laying down his pride tolift a far greater possession. There may be a difference of opinion asto which is right when two have fallen out, but however that be, thesituation is in itself wrong beyond dispute, and all the honour is hiswho ends it."

  Giles heard him with lowered head, and knit brows, but he did not resentthe brief sermon. Doctor Fuller was a gentle spirit; all his days weregiven over to healing and helping; he was free from the condemnatorysternness of most of the colonists, and Giles, as all others did, lovedhim.

  Giles kicked at the pebbles in the way, the slow colour mounting in hisface. Then he threw back his head and looked the good doctor squarely inthe eyes.

  "Ah, well, Doctor Fuller," he said. "I'd welcome peace, but what wouldyou? My father condemns me, sees no good in me, nor would he welcomeback the old days when we were close friends. There will be a ship comehere from home some time on which I can sail back to England. It will bebetter to rid my father of my hateful presence; yet should I hate toleave Sis--Constance."

  "May the ship never leave the runway that shall take you from us, Giles,lad," said the doctor. "You are blind not to see that it is too-greatlove for thee that ails thy father! It often works to cross purposes,our unreasonable human affection. But the case is by no means pastcuring when love awry is the disease. Do your part, Giles, and all willbe well."

  But Giles did not alter his course, and when Captain Myles Standish saidto Stephen Hopkins: "We set forth on the eighteenth of September toexplore the Massachusetts. I shall take ten men of our colour, and threered men, two besides Squanto. Let me have your lad for one of my band,old friend. I think it will be his remedy." Stephen Hopkins welcomed thesuggestion, as Giles himself did, and it was settled. The Plymouthcompany sailed away in their shallop on a beautiful, sunshiny morningwhen the sun had scarcely come up out of the sea.

  Giles and his father had shaken hands on parting, and Stephen Hopkinshad given the boy his blessing; both were conscious that it might be afinal parting, since no one could be sure what would befall the smallband among untried savages.

  Yet there was no further reconciliation than this, no apology on the oneside, nor proffered pardon on the other.

  Constance clung long around her brother's neck in the dusk in which shehad risen to prepare his breakfast; she did not go down to see thestart, being heavy hearted at Giles's going, and going without liftingthe cloud completely between him and his father. She bade him good-byein the long low room under the rear of the lean-to, where wood was piledand water buckets were set and storage made of supplies.

  "Oh, Giles, Giles, my dearest, may God keep you and bring you back!"Constance whispered, and then let her brother go.

  She went about her household tasks that morning with lagging step andunsmiling lips. Damaris followed her, wistfully, much depressed by theunusual dejection of Constance, who, in spite of her stepmother'sdisapproval of anything like merriment, ordinarily contrived toentertain Damaris to the top of her bent when the household tasks weregetting done.

  "Will Giles never come home again, Connie?" the child asked at last, andConstance cried with a catch in her voice:

  "Yes, oh yes, little sister! We know he will, because we so want him!"

  "There must be a better ground for hope than our poor desires,Damaris," Dame Eliza was beginning, speaking over the child atConstance; when opportunely a shadow fell across the floor through theopen door and Constance turned to see Doctor Fuller smiling at her.

  "Good morning, Mistress Hopkins; good morning little Damaris; and goodmorning to you, Constance lass!" he said. "Is this a day of especialbusiness? Are you too busy for charity to your neighbours, beginningwith me, and indirectly reaching out to our entire community?"

  Constance smiled at him with that swift brightening of her face that wasone of her chief attractions; her expression was always playing betweengrave and gay.

  "It is not a day of especial business, Doctor Fuller," she said, "or atleast all our days are especial ones where there is everything yet to bedone. But I could give it over to charity better than some other days,and if it were charity to you--though I fear there is nothing for suchas I to do for such as you--then how gladly would I do it, if only topay a tittle of the debt we all owe to you."

  "Good child!" said the doctor. "I need help and comradeship in my herbgathering; it is to be done to-day, if you will be that helper. There isno wind, and there is that benignity of sun and sky that hath alwaysseemed to me to impart special virtue to herbs gathered under it. Sowill you come with me? We will gather the morning long, and thisafternoon I purpose distilling, in which necessary work your deftfingers will be of the greatest assistance to me."

  "Gladly will I go," cried Constance, flushing with pleasure. "I willfetch my basket and shears, put on my bonnet, and be ready in a trice.Shall I prepare a lunch, or shall I be at home again for dinner?"

  "Neither, Constance; there is yet another alternative." Doctor Fullerlooked with great satisfaction at Constance's happier face as he spoke;she had been so melancholy when he had come. "I have arranged that youshall be my guest at dinner in my house, and after it we will to work inmy substitute for a laboratory. Mistress Hopkins, Constance will bequite safe, be assured; and you, I trust, will not mind a quiet day withDamaris and Oceanus to bear you company?"

  "And if I did mind it, would that prevent it?" demanded Dame Eliza witha toss of her head. "Not even with a 'by your leave' does ConstantiaHopkins arrange her goings and comings."

  "Which was wholly my fault in not first putting my question to you,instead of to Constance directly," said Doctor Fuller. "And surely thereis no excuse for my blundering, I who am trained to feel pulses and lookat tongues! But since it is thus happily concluded, and your stepmotheris glad to let you have a sort of holiday, come then; hasten, Constancegirl!"

  Constance ran upstairs to hide her laughing face. She came down almostat once with that face shaded by a deep bonnet, a basket hung on herarm, shears sticking up out of it, pulling on long-armed half-gloves asshe came.

  As they walked down the narrow street Constance glanced up at DoctorFuller, interrogatively.

  "And----?" the doctor hinted.

  "And I was wondering whether you were not treating me to-day as yourpatient?" Constance said. "A patient with a trouble of the mind, andalso a heart complaint?"

  "Which means----?" The doctor again waited for Constance to fill out hisquestion.

  "Which means that you knew I was sorely troubled about Giles; that hehad gone without better drawing to his father; that I was anxious abouthim, even while wishing him to go; and that you gave me this day in thewoods with you for my healing," Constance answered.

  "At least not for your harm, little maid," said the doctor. "It hathbeen my experience that the gatherer of herbs gets a healing of spiritthat is not set down in our books among the beneficial qualities of theplants, but which may, under conditions, be their best attribute.Although the singing of brooks and birds, the sweetness of the winds,the solemn nobility of the trees, the vastness of the sky, theover-brooding presence of God in His creation are compounded with theherbs, and impart their powers to us with that of the plants."

  "That is true," said Constance. "I feel my vexations go from me as if mysoul were bat
hed in a miraculous elixir, when I go troubled to the woodsand sit in them awhile."

  "Of a certainty," agreed the doctor, bending his tall, thin figure topick a small leaf which he held up to Constance. "See this, with itslikeness to the halberd at its base? This is vervain, which is called'Simpler's Joy,' because of the good it yields to those who, like usto-day, are simplers, gatherers of simple herbs for mankind's benefit.Now let us hope that this single plant is a forerunner of many of itskind, for it hath been a sacred herb among the ancients, as amongChristians, and it should be an augury of good to us to find it. Lookyou, Constance, I do not mind confessing it to you, for you are not onlyyoung, but of that happy sort who yield to imagination something of itsdue. I like my omens to be favourable, not in superstition, though ourbrethren would condemn me thus, but from a sense of harmony and thesatisfaction of it."

  "How pleasant a hearing is that, Doctor Fuller!" laughed Constance. "Ilove to have the new moon aright, though well I know the moon and I havenaught in common! And though I do not believe in fairies, yet do I liketo make due allowance for them!"

  "It is the poetry of these things, and children like you and me, mydear, are not to be deprived of poetry by mere facts and common sense,"said the doctor, sticking in the band of his hat the sprig of bluevervain which his sharp eyes had discovered.

  "Yonder on the side of that sandy hill shall we find mints, pennyroyal,and the close cousin of it, which is blue curls. There is the prunelle,and welcome to it! Gather all you can of it, Constance. That isself-heal, and a sovereign remedy for quinsy. So is it a balm for woundsof iron and steel tools, and for both these sorts of afflictions, whatwith our winter climate as to quinsy and our hard labour as to wounds, Iam like to need abundant self-heal."

  Thus pleasantly chatting Doctor Fuller led the way, first up the sandyhill where grew the pennyroyal, all along the border of the woods whereself-heal abounded. They found many plants unexpectedly, which thedoctor always hailed with the joy of one who loved them, rather morethan of the medical man who required them, and Constance busily snippedthe stems, listening to the doctor's wise and kindly talk, loving himfor his goodness and kindness to her in making her heart light andgiving her on this day, which had promised to be sad, of his ownabundant peace.

  "Now, Constance, I shall lead you to a secret of my own," announced thedoctor as the sun mounted high above them, and noon drew near. "Comewith me. But do not forget to rejoice in this wealth of bloom, purpleand blue, these asters along the wayside. They are the glory of our newcountry, and for them let us praise God who sets beauty so lavishlyaround us, having no use but to praise Him, for not to any other purposeare these asters here, and yet, though I cannot use them, am I humblythankful for them. And for these plumes of golden and silver flowersbeside them, which we did not know across the seas. Now, Constance, whatsay you to that?"

  He pointed triumphantly to a small group of plants with heart-shapedleaves, having small leaves at their base, and which twisted as theygrew around their neighbouring plants, or climbed a short distance onsmall shrubs. Groups of drooping berries of brilliant, translucentscarlet lighted up the little plant settlement, hanging as gracefully asjewels set by a skilful goldsmith for a fair lady's adornment.

  "I think they are wonderfully beautiful. They are like ornaments for abeautiful lady! What are they?" cried Constance.

  "They are themselves the beautiful lady," Doctor Fuller said, with apleased laugh. "That is their name--belladonna, which means 'beautifullady.' They are _Atropa Belladonna_, to give them their full title. Buttheir beauty is only in appearance. If they are a belle dame, then sheis the _belle dame sans merci_, a cruel beauty if you cross her. Youmust never taste these berries, Constance. I myself planted these vines.I brought them with me, carefully set in soil. The beautiful lady can becruel if you take liberties with her, but she is capable of kindness. Ishall gather the belladonna now and distil it. In case any one among usate of poisonous toadstools, and were seized with severe spasms of thenature of the effect of toadstools, belladonna alone would save them.Nightshade, we also call this plant. See, I will myself gather this, byyour leave, my assistant, and place it in my own herb wallet."

  The doctor suited the action to the word, arose from his knees andcarefully brushed them. "When Mistress Fuller comes, which is a wearyday awaiting, I hope she may not find me fallen into untidiness," hesaid, whimsically. "Constance, the ship is due that will bring my wifeand child, if my longing be a calendar!"

  "Indeed, dear Doctor Fuller, I often think of it," said Constance. "Youwho are so good to us all are lonely and heavy of heart, but none ismade to feel it. The comfort is that Mistress Fuller and your littleone are safe and you will yet see them, while so many of the women whocame hither in our ship are not here now, and those who loved them willnever see them in this world again."

  "Surely, my child. I am not repining, for, though I am opposed to theextreme strict views of some of our community, and they look askanceupon me for it at times, yet do I not oppose the will of God," said thedoctor, simply.

  "Who of them fulfils it as you do?" cried Constance. "You who go out tominister to the sick savages, not content to heal your own brethren?"

  "And are not the savages also our brothers?" asked the doctor, taking uphis wallet. "Come then, child; we will go home, and this afternoon shallyou learn something of distilling, as you have, I hope, this morninglearned something of selecting herbs for remedies."

  Constance went along at the doctor's side, swinging her bonnet, notafraid of the hot September sun upon her face. It lighted up herdisordered hair, and turned it into the semblance of burnished metal,upon which the doctor's eyes rested with the same satisfaction that hadwarmed them as he looked on the generous beauty of aster and goldenrod,and he saw with pleasure that Constance's face was also shining, itsbrightness returned, and he was well content with the effect of hisprescription for this patient.

  Constance had a gift of forgetting herself in an ecstasy that seized herwhen the weight of her new surroundings was lifted. With Doctor Fullershe felt perfect sympathy, and her utter delight in this lovely daybubbled up and found expression.

  Doctor Fuller heard her singing one of her little improvised songs,softly, under her breath, to a crooning air that was less an air than asuccession of sweet sounds. It was the sort of little song with whichConstance often amused the children of the settlement, and DoctorFuller, that childlike soul, listened to her with much of their pleasurein it.

  "Blossom, and berry, and herb of grace; Purple and blue and gold lighting each place; Herbs for our body and bloom for our heart-- Beauty and healing, for each hath its part. Under the sunshine and in the starlight, Warp and woof weareth the pattern aright. Shineth the fabric when summer's at end: The garment scarce hiding the Heart of our Friend,"

  Constance sang, nor did the doctor interrupt her simple Te Deum by aword.

  At the doctor's house dinner awaited them, kept hot, for they weretardy. After it, and when Constance had helped to put away all signs ofits having been, the doctor said to her:

  "Now for my laboratory, such as it is, and for our task, my apprenticein medicine!" He conducted Constance into a small room, at the rear ofthe house where he had set up tables of various sizes of his ownmanufacture, and where were ranged on the shelves running around threesides of the room at different heights, bowls, glasses of oddshapes--the uses of which were not known to Constance--and small,delicate tools, knives, weights, and piles of strips of linen, neatlyrolled and placed in assorted widths in an accessible corner.

  "Mount this stool, Constance, and watch," the doctor bade her. "Paystrict attention to what I shall do and tell you. Take this paper andquill and note names, or special instructions. I am serious in wishingyou to know something of my work. I need assistance; there is no man tobe spared from man's work in the plantation, and, to speak the truth,your brain is quicker to apprehend me, as your hand is more skilful toexecute for me in the matters upon which I engage than are
those of anyof the lads who are with us. So mount this high stool, my lass, andlearn your lesson."

  Constance obeyed him. Breathlessly she watched the beginnings of thedistillation of the belladonna which she had seen gathered.

  As the small drops fell slowly into the glass which the doctor had setfor them, he began to teach Constance other things, while thedistillation went on.

  "These are my phials, Constance," he said. "Commit to memory the namesof their contents, and note their positions. See, on these shelves aremy drugs. Do you see this dark phial? That is for my belladonna. Nownote where it is to stand. In that line are poisons. Their phials aredark, to prevent mistaking them for less harmful drugs, which are onthis other shelf, in white containers."

  The doctor taught, and Constance obediently repeated her lesson, tillthe sound of the horn that summoned the settlers to their homes forsupper, and the level rays of the sun across the floor, warned thedoctor and his pupil that their pleasant day was over.

  "But you must return, till you are letter perfect in your knowledge,Constance," the doctor said. "I have decided that there must be oneperson among us whom I could dispatch to bring me what I needed in caseI were detained, and could not come myself."

  "I will gladly learn, Doctor Fuller," said Constance, her faceconfirming her assurance. "I have no words to tell you how happy itmakes me to hope that I may one day be useful in such great matters."

  "As you will be," the doctor said. "But remember, my child, the lessonof the fields: It does not concern us whether great or small affairs aregiven us to do; the one thing is to do well what comes our way; to becontent to fill the background of the picture, or to be a figure in theforeground, as we may be required. Aster, goldenrod, herb, all are doingtheir portion."

  "Indeed you have helped me to see that, dear Doctor Fuller," saidConstance, gently. "It is not ambition, but the remembrance of lastwinter's hardships, when there was so little aid, that makes me wish Icould one day help."

  "Yes, Constance; I know. Good-night, my child, and thank you for yourpatient attention, for your help; most of all for your sweetcompanionship," said the doctor.

  "Oh, as to that, I am grateful enough to you! You made to-day a happygirl out of a doleful one!" cried Constance. "Good-night, DoctorFuller!"

  She ran down the street, singing softly:

  "Flower, and berry, and herb of grace;"

  till she reached her home and silenced her song with a kiss on eagerDamaris's cheek.