’...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.

This letter called forth the lively joy and gratitude of Roger, and animated him to fresh zeal and activity in all his proceedings at Seacomb. He was also encouraged greatly by the arrival, at the same time, of five of his most devoted adherents from Salem, who had no sooner learnt from his Indian messenger, of his arrival at the place of his destination, than they determined to accompany the friendly savage on his return to Seacomb, and assist their friend and teacher in all his labors for the formation of an independent settlement.

All this visa cheering and satisfactory; but the trials of this undaunted man were not over yet. His trusty messenger had brought him another dispatch, which he had not yet attended to. He now opened it, and found that it came from the Governor of Plymouth; and contained an earnest injunction to him to abandon Seacomb, which, he informed him; was included in their patent, and to remove to the other side of the river that formed their boundary, where he could be free and independent, like themselves. ’I accepted his wise counsel as a voice from God,’ wrote Williams: and he’ immediately resolved to be guided by it, and again commence his wanderings.

In a frail Indian canoe, he and his companions rowed up the arm of the sea, now called the river Seacock. They knew not where to land, or where again to pitch their tent in the wilderness; but they were soon guided by the friendly voices of a party of Narragansetts on the opposite shore. These natives had recognized their friend Williams, and now shouted out, in broken English, the welcome words, ‘What cheer?’ The sound fell like music on the ears of the desolate exiles; and, in remembrance of the event, the spot of ground where they first landed on the Narragansett territory received the name of ’What Cheer?’ which it still retains. A spring, called ’Williams’s Spring,’ is also shown by the present inhabitants of this district, in proud and grateful memory of the spot where the founder of a future free state first set foot on shore.

The place where the wanderer landed was called by the Indians Maushasuck; and it was made over to him by the generous Cundincus, as a free and absolute possession, and also all the land included between the rivers Pawtucket and Maushasuck. This property he shared equally with his present comrades, and also with some others who shortly after joined him from Salem, and made their whole number amount to thirteen. He did not reserve any advantage to himself, although the land actually belonged to him alone; but divided it into thirteen equal portions, on each of which a rude hut was immediately erected. These were soon improved, and became a rising village, to which Williams gave the name of Providence, in grateful remembrance of the Divine guidance and protection which had brought him at length to ’the haven where he would be.’

He and his associates united themselves into a sort of ’town-fellowship,’ and independent church; and one of the first rules which they laid down, for their future guidance and government, was that no one should ever suffer, in that settlement, for conscience’ sake.

It was summer when the little village began to be built; and, before the land could be cleared and prepared for cultivation, the season was too far advanced to allow any hope of a corn-harvest. The new settlers had, therefore, to endure the same poverty and privation that had been the lot of the earlier planters in New England. They had no means of obtaining any of the comforts of civilized life, except from Boston or Plymouth: and as they possessed no vessel besides an Indian canoe, this was a service of toil and much hazard. Still they did not repine, for liberty was here their precious portion; and hope for the future sustained them through the trials of the present time.

But where was Edith? Where was that true-hearted woman while her husband was thus struggling with difficulties and privations? She was where both inclination and duty had led her by his side; and smiling at trials that she was permitted to share with him, and to lighten by her presence.

We must here revert to the time before Edith had been blessed by receiving intelligence of her husband from Seacomb, and had so cheerfully replied to the note which he wrote to her on a scrap of paper torn from his pocket book. In order not to interrupt the history of Roger’s difficulties and their successful issue, we have not yet narrated the trials that his exemplary wife had endured and endured with a resolution and fortitude equal to his own.

When the joyful news of Roger’s safety reached Edith at Salem, she was slowly recovering from a long and dangerous illness, which anxiety and sorrow had brought on her a few weeks after the birth of her child. Through all her sufferings of mind end body, Dame Elliot had been her nurse and her comforter; and she and her husband had sacrificed their own domestic comfort, and their own humble but cherished home, to lessen the sorrows of their afflicted friend.

All the consolation that human sympathy and affection could afford to Edith, was given by these true Christian friends; and all the spiritual strength that the prayers end exhortations of such a minister as Elliot could impart to a sorrowing spirit, were received, and gratefully appreciated, by the object of his solicitude and care. But when weeks and months had elapsed, and still no tidings came of the beloved wanderer, what hope could be given to the desolate heart of Edith Her friends had themselves given up all hope of Roger’s having survived the toils end privations of the journey; and how could they bid his wife cheer up, and look for brighter days, which they believed would never come? A letter which Edith received from her parents, by the captain of a fishing-boat from Plymouth, too clearly proved that Williams had never reached that settlement; and from that day the health and spirits of his wife visibly declined. She did not give way to violent grief; but a settled melancholy dwelt on her pale and lovely countenance, and all the thoughtful abstraction of her early year, which happiness had chased from her features, returned again. No object but her infant seemed to rouse her; and then it was only to tears: but tears were better than that look of deep and speechless sorrow that generally met the anxious gaze of her friends, and made them, at times, apprehensive for her reason. At length her physical powers gave way, and a violent attack of fever brought Edith to the brink of the grave.

During this period both Elliot and his wife devoted themselves, day and night, to the poor sufferer, whose mind wandered continually, and whose deeply-touching lamentations for the beloved one, whom she mourned as dead, brought tears to the eyes of her faithful friends. They had no hope of her recovery, nor could they heartily desire it; for they believed her earthly happiness was wrecked for ever, and they could ask no better fate for her than a speedy reunion with her Roger in a home beyond the grave.

Her child they looked on as their own, and cherished her with almost a parent’s love and care; while they resolved to bring her up in those high and holy principles that had been so nobly contended for by her unfortunate father, and so beautifully exemplified in the amiable character of her mother.

The fever ran high, and bore down all the strength both moral and physical of its victim. At length, after days and nights of restlessness and delirium, a deep and heavy sleep came on; and Edith lay still and motionless for hours, while her untiring friends sat watching her in silence, and offering up fervent prayers for the soul that seemed to be departing. During this anxious period, a gentle knock was made at the door; and Elliot, on opening it, was presented by Edith’s single attendant with the small packet that Roger’s Indian messenger had brought for her mistress.

In trembling agitation, the pastor showed the direction which he knew to be in his friend’s handwriting to his wife: and now, indeed, they lifted up their hearts to the God who heareth prayer, that He would be pleased to recall the precious life that seemed to be fast ebbing away; and to permit His tried and faithful servants again to be united, and enjoy the happiness that yet might be their portion on earth.

Noiselessly Elliot glided from the room for he feared to awaken the sleeper and sought the friendly Indian, from whom he learnt the good news of Roger’s safety, and all the particulars that the red man could relate concerning him. He then returned to Edith’s chamber, and, in a low whisper, communicated all that he had heard to his wife, and consulted with her as to the best method of communicating the startling tidings to Edith, should she ever awake from her present death-like slumber.

They were still engaged in earnest, but scarcely audible, conversation, when Dame Elliot, who did not cease from watching her patient, observed her open her large eyes, and fix them with a look of intelligent inquiry on herself and her husband. She made a sign to him; and he likewise was struck with the evident change in Edith’s countenance, and filled with hope that her reason had perfectly returned. This hope was quickly confirmed by the invalid saying in a very low voice, but in a collected manner

’I have slept very long, and my dreams have been very painful. I dreamt that I was alone in the world, and that an angel came to take my soul where he had gone to dwell. And then just as I bade farewell to earth a little form came between me and the angel, and held me back. Where is that little being? Dame Elliot, let me look on her, that my trembling spirit may be stayed. No, Roger; no I must not ask to follow you yet.’

Edith seemed too weak for tears, or for any strong emotion; but she closed her eyes, and slowly clasped her almost transparent hands upon her breast, and looked so still and colorless, that she might have been taken for a marble monument, but for the dark waving hair that fell upon her pillow, and shaded her snowy neck. Dame Elliot took up the infant from its little wicker cradle, and held it towards Edith, saying gently

’Look up, my Edith, and bless the little being that God has given to call you back to life and happiness.’

’Happiness!’ murmured Edith. ’That word has no meaning for me! Duty is my only tie to life.’

But she did look up; and as her eyes were long end fondly fixed on the unconscious features of the child, her own sweet look of gentleness rose into them again, and she raised her feeble arms, as if to take the infant.

‘And he will never see her,’ she whispered. ’He will never look on his child in this world.’

Elliot thought that hope might now be given without danger; and he took her wasted hand in his, and said

’Edith, you have had much sorrow, and it has nearly brought you down to the grave. But can you bear to feel the agitation of hope? Can you listen calmly while I tell you that some tidings of your husband have reached us, and that he was certainly alive after the time when you believed him dead?’

He paused, and looked anxiously to see the effect of this sentence; and he was almost awed by the expression of Edith’s countenance. It was not agitation it was not joy it was not trembling uncertainty. But it was a look of concentrated mental power and endurance, and of speechless inquiry, that seemed to say, ’Now utter my sentence of life or death, and do it quickly!’

Dame Elliot could not bear it. Bursting into tears of deep emotion, she beat down and imprinted a kiss on Edith’s cold brow, while she exclaimed, in broken accents

’Yes! it is true, dearest Edith. You may live and live, we hope, for happiness as great as has ever been your portion.’

‘O, my God!’ cried Edith-’this is too much! too much of joy for one so weak and faithless. But tell me, my friends tell me all. I can bear it now.’

Gently and gradually Elliot prepared her for the blissful certainty of her husband’s safety; and when he found that illness had not greatly weakened her natural strength of mind, and that she could bear the joy that awaited her, he gave her Roger’s own letter, and felt assured that the tears she, at length, shed at the sight of his hand-writing, would relieve and calm her over-burdened heart.

In this he judged truly; for, though Edith was greatly exhausted after this strong excitement, yet she passed a tranquil night, and was so much recovered on the following morning as to be able to converse composedly with her kind friends. The fever had passed away; and the sense of restored happiness, joined to youth and a naturally good constitution, had a rapid effect in renovating her strength and spirits, and recalling a faint bloom to her cheek.

Before the Indian set out on his return to Seacomb, she insisted on seeing him, and herself delivering to him a letter to Roger, in which she had carefully avoided all mention of her illness. She made numerous inquiries of him relative to her husband’s health and present situation; and charged him to convey her packet safely, and tell his employer that he had seen her and his child well and happy. She could say this with truth; for so rapidly had she recovered, that the inexperienced eye of the Indian could detect no remaining indisposition in the slight and graceful form of the interesting pale-face, or any trace of disease in the bright eye that smiled so kindly upon him.

He departed with the friends of Williams, and earnestly did his wife wish that it had been possible for her to accompany them, and join her husband at once. But this could not be; and she could only endeavor to regain her strength, so as to be able to proceed to Plymouth, as soon as the promised vessel arrived. In due time it came: and bidding her kind and devoted friends an affectionate farewell, Edith and her child embarked, with all the little property that remained to her, and soon found herself once more beneath the peaceful roof of her parents.

Until she arrived at Plymouth, she was not aware of the fresh trial that had befallen her husband, in being compelled to abandon his settlement at Seacomb, and remove into the Narragansett district. This change was distressing to her, as it net only placed the lines of her future habitation at a greater distance from her parents and friends at New Plymouth, but also removed it further from all civilized life, and into a district inhabited by a tribe whom she had learnt to dread from her childhood, as the rivals and foes of the friendly Wampanoges. Still these considerations did not, in any measure, abate her eagerness to fellow Roger, and take her part in all his toils and anxieties. The winter had passed away, and, though far from genial, the weather was more tolerable for travelling; and Edith resolved to set out.

All the arguments and entreaties of Helen and Rodolph to induce her to delay her journey for some months, were ineffectual. Her husband lived; and he was suffering hardship and could she remain separated from him, now that her own strength had been restored? The only concession she could be persuaded to make, was to wait until some friend from Plymouth was found to accompany her. Gladly would her father have done so; but he was suffering so severely from the ague that so often attacked the settlement in the spring months, as to be perfectly incompetent to attempt the toilsome journey. No vessel could now be procured, and it was on foot that Edith proposed to traverse the wide extent of wilderness that stretched between Plymouth and Roger’s place of refuge.

Two faithful and active Indians were appointed by Mooanam to be her guides, and to carry the infant which she would not consent to leave behind her; and, in order that this might be accomplished with greater facility, Apannow provided her with one of the Indian cradles or, rather, pouches in which the red squaws so commonly carry their young children on their backs. This was thickly lined with soft and elastic bog-moss, and well adapted to the purpose for which it was designed.

All was prepared, and the impatient Edith only waited for a companion from among her own countrymen, who were all so much occupied at that busy season as to feel little disposed to undertake so long a journey. But she found one at length who was sufficiently interested in her happiness, and that of her husband, to leave his home and his occupations, and offer to be her protector. This was the excellent Edward Winslow, who had been her father’s constant friend ever since their first emigration, and who bad also learnt to know and value Roger Williams, during his residence at Plymouth.

With such a companion, Edith felt she had nothing to fear; and her anxious parents committed her to his care with greater confidence than they would have done to that of any other protector. His natural sagacity, his courage, and his knowledge of the Indians and their language, rendered him peculiarly suitable for the enterprise; and his warm friendship for Rodolph and all his family, and the lively powers of his pious and intelligent mind, ensured to Edith both a kind and an agreeable fellow-traveler.

Nevertheless, it was not without many prayers and tears that Helen saw her daughter once more leave her childhood’s home, and commence her journey. But Edith’s spirits were joyous, and her hopes were high; and her child lay smiling contentedly in its strange nest, which was slung on the shoulders of one of the Indian guides. The other carried a small stock of provisions, and other necessaries, and thus the little party set forth.

We will rot follow them, day by day, in their fatiguing journey; but merely state that its length and difficulty exceeded even the expectations of Edith and her companion; but never damped the persevering courage of the former, or drew from her a complaint, or a wish to return. She only felt that every step, however rough and toilsome, carried her nearer to the object that was dearest to her on earth; and this conviction supported her when otherwise her strength must have failed.

Sometimes an Indian wigwam afforded her rest and shelter; but, frequently, a bed of dry leaves, and a roof of boughs, were the best lodging that Winslow and the Indians could provide for her and her little infant. Happily the weather was calm and mild, and the season sufficiently advanced to enable the Indians to find a quantity of nutritious roots, which, with the meal, or nokake, that they carried with them or procured from the natives by the way formed the chief subsistence of the party. Occasionally, their fare was improved by a wild turkey, or wood duck; or, perhaps, a squirrel or hare, that Winslow brought down with his gun; but often the day’s journey was performed with no other refreshment than a few spoonsful of dry meal, and a draught of cold water, until something more nourishing could be procured at their place of repose for the right.

Roger Williams was standing one evening on the bank of the river, or rather, arm of the sea, called Seacock, near the spot where he had first landed, and to which he had given the name of ‘What Cheer?’ He was examining the landing-place, and contriving some means of turning it into a sort of harbor for canoes that belonged to the settlers in his new village, when his attention was attracted to the other side of the river, by hearing his own name loudly called by native voices. He looked to the spot, and saw two Indians plunge into the water, and swim rapidly towards him: and, as they did so, he also observed two other figures emerge from a grove of trees that reached nearly to the eastern brink of the inlet.

The distance was considerable, but Roger’s keen eye could discern that one of them was a female form; and, as they approached nearer to the water’s edge, and the rays of the evening sun fell brightly upon them, he also saw that the arms of that graceful and familiar form carried an infant.

‘Surely it is an illusion!’ he exclaimed. I have so long pictured to my mind that blessed sight, that at length my fancy seems realized. It cannot be!’

But again his name was called not now with an Indian accent, but in the manly English tones of Edward Winslow ‘Bring down a canoe, Roger!’ he shouted across the Water. ’Edith and your child cannot swim this, arm of the sea.’

It was then true! Edith his beloved wife was there and only that narrow inlet divided them! The Indians had sprung to the shore, and were waiting his directions, to go in search of a canoe; but for a few moments he did not regard them, so riveted were his eyes, and all his senses, on the opposite shore. But now he remembered that only by means of a boat could he attain that shore; and making a signal of wild joy and welcome to Edith, he hurried up the creek with the Indians, and rapidly unloosed the moorings of his canoe, which lay securely behind a projecting rock. He leaped into it, leaving the natives on the shore, and paddled the canoe swiftly down the creek, to the spot where Edith stood waiting to receive him, trembling with agitation and joy.

When the first burst of emotion, at this, long-desired meeting with his wife and hitherto unknown child, had subsided, Roger warmly welcomed the friend who had so kindly protected them during their long journey, and brought them to the wild spot that was now his only home. He then led them to the canoe, and, with Winslow’s assistance, soon rowed them to the other side, and conducted them to his, infant settlement.

The huts were indeed erected, and covered in with shingle roofs; but their appearance promised little of outward comfort to Edith. Yet an inward joy and satisfaction were now permitted to her, which, at one time, she had never hoped to enjoy again on earth; and all externals were as nothing when compared with this. Nevertheless, she exerted herself with all a woman’s taste and skill to arrange the simple furniture of the hut, and even to add a something of decoration; and both her husband and Winslow wondered at the improvement which she soon effected in the appearance of the dwelling, and the ingenuity with which she converted the rudest materials into articles of use or ornament.

Her joyous spirits, and active moments, gave a life and animation to the hitherto dreary scene; and Roger felt that he had, indeed, in her a helpmate, who would cheer the loneliest situation, and shed a grace and charm ever poverty itself.

Winslow appreciated all her excellent and amiable qualities very highly also; and yet he lamented the lot of both his friends, who had to endure, in this comparative solitude, all the struggles, and all the hardships, that the Pilgrim Fathers had once encountered, and had now conquered.

But the visit of this, ‘great and pious soul,’ as Roger described Edward Winslow, very greatly cheered the heart of the exiles. He remained for many weeks in the new settlement; and only left it when the advance of the season warned him that the short Indian summer was drawing to an end. A vessel which arrived at that time from Plymouth, and which brought the wives and families of several of the settlers, afforded him the means of returning by sea, and avoiding the tedious land journey. He departed, with the thanks and blessings of his friends, to convey to Edith’s, parents the happy intelligence that she was both well and happy, and that it was evident her cheerful spirit had power to sustain her through every difficulty by which she might be surrounded.