CHAPTER XIX.
SOWED AND REAPED IN ONE DAY.
"Bradford thou wast bred to the land wast not?" demanded Hopkinsbursting into the house where William Bradford, ill and crippled withrheumatism in his "huckle-bone" or hip-joint, sat beside the firereading an old Latin copy of the Georgics.
"Bred to the land? Well, my forbears were husbandmen, and the uncle whocared for me as an orphan boy was a yeoman, but as I had some estate andnot very rugged health, they aye left me alone with my books in my youngdays. But why?"
"Didst thou ever hear then, or didst thou ever read in thy books, ofplanting fish along with corn?"
"Nay. Didst thou?"
"That is what I am coming at. A lot of the men are talking with thisSquanto about the place and time and manner of setting corn. Naturallythe poor brute knoweth somewhat of the place and its customs, seeingthat he hath always lived here, and still it irks me to see a salvagegiving lessons to his white masters. He saith too that corn is to beplanted when the oak leaves are as large as a mouse's ear. Such rottenrubbish!"
"But doth he aver that his people were used to plant fish with thecorn?"
"Ay, and he went down to the brook yester even and set some manner ofsnare, and this morning hath taken a peck or so of little fish, for allthe world like a Dutch herring only bigger, and of these he says twomust go into every hill of the corn, that is, this corn of theirs, forof wheat or rye or barley he knoweth nothing."
"By way of enrichment, I suppose."
"Ay, for in his gibberish he saith that corn hath been raised hereaboutagain and again, and now the land is hungry. Ha, ha, man, fancy thesalvage calling the dead earth hungry, as if it were alive."
"Our dear mother Earth dead, sayst thou!" exclaimed Bradford smilingdreamily and glancing at his Virgil. "Nay, man, she is the vigorousfecund mother of all outward life, and when she dieth, the end of allthings hath come."
"A pest on thy dreaming and thy bookish phantasies!" roared Hopkinskicking the smouldering log upon the hearth until a river of sparksflowed up and out of the wide chimney. "Dost thou agree to putting fishto decay amid the corn we are to eat by and by?"
"We are not to live by what we plant, but by what we reap, friendHopkins," replied Bradford still smiling in the inscrutable fashion of aman who pursues his own train of thought far down beneath his surfaceconversation.
"Dost thou agree to the herring?" roared Hopkins smiting the table withhis brawny fist.
"Why yes, Hopkins, if it needs that I give my sanction. It striketh myfancy that the man who hath raised and eaten his bread on this spot forsome thirty years is like to know better how to do it than we who havejust come. But what matter as to my opinion?"
"Oh ay, I did not tell it as I should, but the governor sent me out ofthe field to ask thee, knowing that thou wast yeoman born."
"Then I pray thee tell the Governor that in my poor mind it were well tofollow the native customs in these matters at least for the first. Iwould that I could get a-field and do my share of the work."
"Thou 'rt as well off here. 'T is woundy hot on that hill-side. I'veknown July cooler than this April."
"And still my rheumatism hugs the fire," said Bradford taking up thetongs and readjusting the scattered logs, while bustling Dame Hopkinshung her dinner-pot upon the crane in the farthest corner, and began aclatter of tongue before which her husband fled apace.
That night when the men came home from the field all spoke of theunusual and exhaustive heat of the weather, for it was now one of thoseperiods of unseasonable sultriness which from time to time afflict ourspring season, as on April 19, 1775, when the wheat stood high enoughabove ground to bend before the breeze, and the British soldiers felldown beside the road, overcome by heat in their rapid flight from the"embattled farmers" of Concord and Lexington. But the next morning roseeven sultrier and more debilitating, and Mistress Katharine Carverfollowing her husband to the door laid a hand upon his shouldersaying,--
"Go not a-field to-day, John. It is even more cruelly hot thanyesterday, and thou art overborne with toil already. Stay with me, Ipray thee."
"Nay, Kate, I were indeed unfit for the leader of the brethren could Isend them forth to labor that I counted too heavy for myself. Let me go,sweetheart, and if thou wilt, say a prayer that I faint not by the way."
"That will I truly, and yet"--
The rest died on her lips for he was gone, yet for a few minutes longershe stood watching the tall figure as it disappeared up the hill pathand listening to the murmur of a spinning-wheel in Elder Brewster'shouse, fitfully accompanied by a blithe tune lilted now and again by thespinner.
"Priscilla is early at her work," thought the dame. "I would I mightsing and spin like that!" and with a little sigh she leaned her headagainst the door-post and closed her eyes; a sweet, pale face, colorlessand pure as an Easter lily, and eyes whose blueness seemed to showthrough the weary lids with their deep golden fringe. A fair woman, alovely woman, delicately bred, for her father was one of those Englishbishops whose authority her husband and his friends so resolutelydenied, and both she and her sister, Pastor Robinson's wife, had "lainin the lilies and fed on the roses of life" until love led them toardent sympathy with the Separatist movement, and they had wed with twoof its most powerful leaders, while their brother, Roger White, becameone himself.
"From heat to heat the day increased," and Katharine Carver lay faintand exhausted upon a settle drawn close beside the open door, when astrange sound of both assured and stumbling feet drew near, and as shestarted up it was to meet John Howland, half leading, half supportingher husband, whose face, deeply flushed, lay upon the other's shoulder.
"Be not over startled, dear lady!" exclaimed Howland. "The governorfindeth himself a little overborne by the heat, and hath come"--
"John! Dear heart, what is it! Nay, try not to speak! Here, good JohnHowland, help me to lay him upon the bed--there then, dear one"--
"Fret not thyself, Kate, 't is but a pain in my head--ah--'t is shrewdenough, but it will pass--there, there, good wife, fret not thyself!"
"John Howland, wilt thou find Surgeon Fuller, and mayhap Dame Brewster,but no more. I will wring a napkin out of fair water and lay to hishead, for it burneth like fire."
"Ay, it burneth like fire," muttered the sick man wearily moving thepoor head from side to side, and Katharine left alone dropped for onemoment upon her knees and raised streaming eyes and clasped hands toHeaven, then rose, and when the Doctor and gentle Mary Brewster enteredshe stood white and calm at her husband's head.
"Ay, ay, he hath sunstroke," muttered the surgeon, laying a hand uponthe patient's forehead, "and no wonder, for it is shrewdly hot to-day,and he toiling away like any Hodge of them all. I must let him blood.Canst get me a basin and a bandage, Mistress?"
"I will fetch them, Katharine. Sit you down." And the Elder's wifeslipped out of the door and back again before even impatient DoctorFuller could wonder where she was.
An hour later Carver arousing from the stupor that was growing upon him,asked to see William Bradford, who at once hobbled in from theneighboring house, although himself hardly able to sit up.
"It grieves me to find thee in such evil case, brother," said hepainfully seating himself beside the sick man's pillow.
"Thy sorrows will last longer than mine, Will. I must set my house inorder so far as I have time. Dost mind, Bradford, what I said to theeand Winslow and Standish, the time I saw ye standing upon the great rockin yon island before we landed in this place?"
"Yes, dear friend, I do remember."
"Well, 't was borne in upon me then, that I was only to look upon thePromised Land, and then for my sins to die, and that thou wert theJoshua who should conquer our Canaan and make the people to dwell safelytherein. Thou shalt be their governor, Bradford, and--their servant."
"As thou hast ever been! Chief of all because the helper of all."
"Send for Winslow and Standish and the elder. I cannot long command mysenses, and fain would speak--nay,
't was but a passing pang. Send forthem, and meanwhile call John Howland and Kate, my wife. I musthasten--hasten"--
Again the stupor crept over him, but steadily fighting it off, andholding his consciousness in the grasp of a strong man's will, he againopened his eyes as his wife, so pale, so still, so self-controlled,leaned over him and laid her cool fingers upon his brow.
"Ay, sweetheart, 't is thy touch. I could tell it among a hundred. Dear,wilt thou go home to thy father's house? He'll have thee, now thy poor'Brownist' is gone. Or wilt thou go to thy sister Robinson? She will befain to have thee."
"'Whither thou goest I will go,' my husband."
"Say you so, Dame? Ay, thou wast ever of a high heart, and a brave.Mayhap our Lord will be merciful to both of us,--but His will be done.Thou 'lt be submissive to thy God, Kate, as thou hast ever been to thylord?"
"Ay, dear, my lord, I will try to do thy bidding even thus far."
"Ah, Kate, Kate, thou hast never failed in all our happy weddedlife--fail not now--promise--promise"--
"Dear love, I promise to bow myself in all loving submission towhatsoever our God shall send."
"Ay, that is right, that is well, that is mine own noble Kate. AndHowland, I leave her to thy care--be a brother, a leal and truefriend--thou knowest what that word means--I can no more--my sensesreel"--
"It needs no more, dear master, dear friend, if I may call my masterso"--
"My friend," murmured Carver.
"Then I do pledge my word as a God-fearing man, that from this momentthe first care, the chiefest duty of my life shall be to serve andshield and comfort my dear lady so far as God gives me power. I will beher servant, her brother, her friend, in all ways, and under allcomings, and so help me God, as I shall keep this my promise."
"Thou dost comfort my soul, even as it enters upon the valley of theshadow. Stand ye two aside and bring in my brethren."
Howland quietly opened the door, and the three who had stood groupedagainst the golden sky on that December evening on Clarke's Islandsilently entered the room and stood around the bed, where in the awfulhush that clings about the last hour their chief lay half unconsciousand yet able to rally his energies for one more mighty effort.
"Brethren, I go--God remaineth--His blessing be upon you, and all HisIsrael here.--Forgive my shortcomings--forgive if I have offended any,knowing or unknowing"--
"Thou hast ever been our best and dearest earthly friend--pardon thouus, dear saint!" murmured Winslow.
--"And if ye will follow my counsel, make William Bradford yourGovernor--and set aside all jealousy, all heart burning--Winslow dostpromise?"
"Ay, friend, I promise right heartily."
"Standish?"
"Ay, Governor."
"Good-by--I can no more--Elder, say a prayer--yet cease before I die"--
And with a long, quivering sigh as of one who relinquishes his grasp ofa burden too mighty for his strength, the first Governor of PlymouthColony went to render an account of his stewardship.
Standish of Standish: A Story of the Pilgrims Page 20
