Part 5 (1/2)
”The s.h.i.+p may sink; then you and these two little children will be unprovided for. I beseech you, husband the little I leave.”
”Have no fears, I shall care for them in some way; but I am not going to forego anything in antic.i.p.ation of disaster. Surely you will come back.
My great grief at the absence of my husband will rend my heart so sorely that I must needs have some pleasure to drive away the sorrow and perpetuate the bloom on these cheeks and the brightness in these eyes for you.”
Silly John Stevens yielded to his wife and consented to set apart for luxuries some of the small amount he was to leave. Mrs. Stevens was born to squander. Ann Linkon had said of her:
”She could cast from the window more than the good husband could throw in at the door.” But Ann was adjudged of slander, and ducked for the charge.
John paid his mother a visit before departing. That sweet, gentle mother greeted her unhappy son with, tears. It was seldom Dorothe permitted him to visit her. His mother knew it and always a.s.sumed a cheerfulness she was far from feeling. Ofttimes poor John had a hard struggle between duty to his mother and fidelity to wife. It was a struggle in which no earthly friend could aid him.
The day to sail came. At an early hour the vessel was to weigh anchor, and just as the approaching day began to paint the eastern horizon an orange hue, John rose and prepared to depart. All the town was quiet.
His children were sleeping, and he bent over them and pressed a kiss upon the cheek of each, murmuring a faint:
”G.o.d bless you!”
”Shall I awake them?” his wife asked.
”No, no; the parting will be much easier if they sleep.
”Dear, I do so regret your going!” sobbed Mrs. Stevens, genuine tears gathering in her eyes.
”Heaven grant, Dorothe, it may not be for long.”
”I will go with you to the boat,” she said, hurriedly dressing herself.
John's small effects had been carried aboard the evening before, so he had only to go on board himself. As Mrs. Stevens buckled her shoes, she repeated:
”I do so regret your going. I shall be so anxious about you and so lonesome.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: Once more he bent over the sleeping children.]
John heard her, but made no answer. He was standing with folded arms gazing on his sleeping children. Moisture gathered in his eyes, and he murmured a silent but fervent prayer to G.o.d to bless and spare them.
There came a knock at the door. It was a sailor come to tell him the boat was waiting to carry him on board the s.h.i.+p, that the tide and wind were fair and they only awaited his arrival to sail.
Once more he tenderly bent over the sleeping children and pressed a kiss on the face of each. A tear fell on the chubby cheek of little Rebecca, causing her to smile.
”Farewell, little darling!” and the father quitted his home and, accompanied by his wife, hurried to the beach. Here was a short pause, a last embrace, a fond adieu, and the husband left the weeping wife on the strand, while he was rowed to the great s.h.i.+p which had already begun to hoist anchor.
CHAPTER III.
THE COLONIES OF THE NEW WORLD.
We love The king who loves the law, respects his bounds, And reigns content within them; him we serve Freely and with delight, who leaves us free: But recollecting still that he is a man, We trust him not too far.
--COWPER.
The Dutch, who still held possession of Manhattan Island and the territory now known as New York, were not enjoying the peace and tranquillity promised the just. Because some swine had been stolen from the plantation of De Vries on Staten Island, the Dutch governor sent an armed force to chastise the innocent Raritans in New Jersey, believing that a show of power would disarm the vengeance of the savages. The event was so grossly unjust that it not only aroused the Raritans, but all neighboring tribes, and they prepared for war. The hitherto peaceful Raritans killed the whites whenever they found them alone in the forest.
Fifteen years before some of Minuet's men murdered an Indian belonging to a tribe seated beyond the Harlem River. His nephew, then a boy, who saw the outrage and made a vow of vengeance, had now grown to be a l.u.s.ty man. He executed his vow by murdering a wheelwright while he was examining his tool-chest for a tool, cleaving his skull with an axe.
Governor Kieft demanded the murderer; but his chief would not give him up, saying he had sought vengeance according to the customs of his race.