A True Hero Part 10

"It is reported in Upland and the other settlements that his ship is on the way, and will soon be here," said Wenlock.

"I am glad to hear it," said the colonel; "and indeed, I am on my way back, hoping to meet him. But, tell me, who is that pale young man and the two seamen I have observed in the camp."

"They were endeavouring to make their way through the forest, and lost it, as I did," answered Wenlock.

"He speaks truly," said Ford, who crawled up to where the colonel and Wenlock were standing. "I wished to join my friend, that I might, without delay, receive my directions from thee, Colonel Markham,"

said Ford, "and well-nigh lost my life in the service of my fellow-creatures."

"Well; I doubt not, when Governor Penn arrives due attention will be paid to the merits of all men in the colony," said the colonel. "For my own part, I do not interfere in such matters."

Colonel Markham having spent the remainder of the day at the camp, and rested there during the night, the Englishmen sleeping as securely as if they were in their own country, the whole party set forth for the settlements.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Bristol was in those days the chief commercial city of England next to London. It was the centre, too, of a district where large quant.i.ties of woollen cloths were manufactured, which were sent forth to foreign lands by the numerous vessels which traded to its port. In a large room belonging to one of the princ.i.p.al merchants in the city, a number of persons were collected. At the head of a long table sat William Penn, while on either side of him were several friends,--Claypole, Moore, Philip Ford, and many others. They were engaged in organising a mercantile company, to which was given the name of the "Free Society of Traders" in Pennsylvania. William Penn, the governor of the new colony, was addressing them.

"I have secured, friends, a number of persons skilful in the manufacture of wool, who have agreed to go forth to our new colony from the valley of Stroud. From the banks of the Rhine, also, many persons conversant with the best modes of cultivating the vine have promised to emigrate."

"We need not fear, then, for the success of our holy enterprise,"

observed Philip Ford; "and I am ready to embark all my worldly possessions. I have already sent out my beloved son Jonas, a youth of fair promise, and what thing more precious could I stake on the success of our undertaking."

William Penn having made all his arrangements with the new company, giving them very great facilities, returned to London. Here he made preparation for his own departure. It was grievous to him to leave his children and his beloved wife. He hoped, however, in a short time to come back and return with them to the land of his adoption. There was a great stir in the Quaker world, for not only farmers and artisans, but many persons of wealth and education were preparing to take part in the enterprise.

Among the first ships which sailed after the departure of the _Amity_, and those which have before been spoken of, was one, the _Concord_, on board which William Mead and his family, with several friends, set sail for the New World. William Penn saw his old friend off, his prayers going with him, and hoping himself to follow in a short time.

In the autumn of the year 1683, a large vessel might have been seen floating on the waters of the Thames. She was the _Welcome_.

Surrounding her were a number of boats which had brought off pa.s.sengers, while her decks were loaded with bales and packages of every possible description, which the crew were engaged in stowing below. On the deck, also, had been built up sheds for horses and pens for sheep, as also for goats to afford milk, and pigs and poultry in large quant.i.ties for provision. Already nearly a hundred persons were collected on board, besides the crew. The signal was given, and the _Welcome_ got under weigh to proceed down the Thames. Once more she brought up in the Downs, off Deal. The 1st of September broke bright and clear. Her flags were flying out gaily to the breeze, her white canvas hung to the yards, when a large boat, followed by several smaller ones, came off from the sh.o.r.e, and the young and energetic preacher of the gospel, the governor of a vast province, the originator of the grandest scheme of colonisation ever yet formed, ascended the side of the _Welcome_ which was to bear him to the sh.o.r.es of the New World. Prayers ascended from the deck of the proud ship as her anchor was once more lifted, and she proceeded on her voyage to the west. All seemed fair and smiling, and all that forethought and care could arrange had been provided for the pa.s.sengers. Few who saw William Penn at that moment would have supposed, however, that he was a man of indomitable energy and courage.

Downcast and sad, he gazed on the sh.o.r.es of the land he was leaving, which, notwithstanding his general philanthropy, contained those he loved best on earth, where all his tender affections were centred. The Isle of Wight was soon pa.s.sed. The Land's End faded in the distance, and the stout ship stood across the Atlantic. William Penn soon recovered his energy and spirits, and the captain promised a speedy and prosperous voyage. The governor was walking the deck, talking earnestly with his friend Pearson, a man of large mind and generous heart, when the captain came to them.

"I fear, friends," he said, "that one of our pa.s.sengers is not long for this world. She has been unwell since she came on board at Deal. Her lips are blue, and dark marks cover her countenance."

The governor and his friend instantly went below; a young girl of some twelve years old lay on her bed in one of the close cabins.

"I fear me much it is the small-pox," said Pearson. "Yet it would be well if we could avoid alarming the other pa.s.sengers."

The news, however, soon spread, and, alas! so did the disease. Before the next day closed in, the young girl had breathed her last, and her body was committed to the sea. By that time signs of the fearful disorder had appeared on four other persons. The governor, Pearson, and others went about the ship, urging the pa.s.sengers to air and fumigate their cabins, beseeching them also not to lose courage, and fearlessly visiting those who were already attacked. The sun rose, and ere it sunk again into the ocean, death had claimed two other victims. All this time no sign of alarm was perceptible on the countenance of the governor. He set a n.o.ble example to his companions, as, indeed, did his friend Pearson. Perseveringly they went about at all hours of the night and day, attending to the sick, speaking words of comfort to them, and pointing to a Saviour who died to save them; and urging them to put their trust in Him, so that they might not fear, even should they be summoned from the world. It was a time to try all. Some who had appeared weak and nervous before, now exhibited courage and confidence in G.o.d's protecting mercy; while others, who had seemed bold and fearless, trembled lest they should be overtaken by the fell disease.

Young and old, however, were attacked alike. Day after day one of their number was summoned away, and before the sh.o.r.es of America appeared in sight, thirty-one had fallen victims to the disease. With the change of climate its virulence appeared to cease, and when the _Welcome_ sailed up the Delaware, all were convalescent who had escaped its ravages.

The tall ship came to an anchor before Newcastle, and numbers of boats came on to welcome the pa.s.sengers. Loud shouts arose from the sh.o.r.e when it was known that the long-looked-for governor had arrived. He had lived too long in the world not to be well aware of the importance of appearing to advantage among strangers. He, accompanied by Pearson and the princ.i.p.al friends who had been companions in his voyage, landed in the ship's barge, with flags flying and all the party dressed in their best. He himself appeared in a plain though becoming costume, being distinguished among his companions by his tall and graceful figure, and the blue silk scarf which he wore across his shoulders. It was on the 27th of October, a day memorable in the annals of the colony. As he stepped on sh.o.r.e, old and young of his motley colonists, habited in the costumes of their different nations, crowded forth from their quaint old Dutch and Flemish houses to the sh.o.r.e to meet him. Swedes and Germans-- the original settlers--Dutchmen with pipe in mouth, a scattering, albeit, of Scotch everywhere to be found, and English and Welsh in greater numbers. As the party leaving the stately ship reached the land, the crowd on sh.o.r.e opened, and two persons, remarkable for their appearance, with numerous attendants, advanced to the landing-place.

One was Colonel Markham, known by his soldier-like bearing, and the handsome uniform of the British army which he still wore. Near him was Wenlock Christison, and Jonas Ford also, who took care to appear among the first in the group. On the other side, a tall figure, his war plumes waving in the breeze, his dress richly ornamented with feathers, his countenance marked with paints of various hue appeared. He was Taminent, the chief of the country, accompanied by a number of his followers of the tribe of Leni-Lenape. With earnest words of congratulation the governor was welcomed to the land of his adoption by the chief, while Colonel Markham briefly described how far he had carried out his employer's wishes. He had selected a site for the governor's residence, on the Delaware, a few miles below the Falls of Fenton, having purchased the land from the chiefs, who claimed it as their own. He had also laid out the grounds and commenced the building, to which he had given the name of Pennsbury. Then turning to the chief, he said:

"And our brother will bear witness that happily no dispute has taken place between the white men and the natives, while not a drop of blood of either has been shed."

"And while Taminent and his descendants live they will pray the Great Spirit to watch over the white men who have come to their land, and to guard them from all harm," said the chief, taking the governor's hand.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

As soon as Wenlock could approach the governor, he inquired for his friends, the Meads.

"Have you not seen them?" exclaimed Penn. "Surely the _Concord_, in which they sailed, left England nearly three months ago, and they should have been here for some time already."

"The _Concord_ has not arrived," answered Wenlock, and his heart sunk within him.

Every inquiry was made, but none of the vessels which had arrived of late had heard of the _Concord_. Wenlock had been hoping that they might have come out, and almost expected to see them on board the _Welcome_. He was now almost in despair. "I grieve for thee, young man," said the governor; "for I know thy love for my old friend's daughter. I grieve also myself at his loss, if lost he is."

Wenlock was unable to speak in reply.

"The only remedy I can advise for thee, is active employment of body and mind, and the reading of the best of books," added the governor, with a look of compa.s.sion at the young man.

Wenlock endeavoured, as far as he could, to follow the advice of his friend. The governor now proceeded up the river, touching on his way at Upland. The inhabitants of the place came out to receive him with delight, a tall pine, which had been allowed to stand when its neighbours were cut away, marking the spot where he went on sh.o.r.e.

Turning to Pearson, who had so n.o.bly supported him in his arduous labours among the sick daring the voyage: "What wilt thou, friend, that I should call this place?" he asked.

"Chester, an' it please thee," answered Pearson. "It is my native city, and the affection I bear for it will never be effaced. Yet I might transfer some slight portion to this town."

"Chester, therefore, let it be henceforth called," answered Penn.

While the governor was stopping at the house of Mr Wade, Wenlock went to visit old Rullock, and to see his own humble abode. He found a large party of Dutch emigrants in the town, who had arrived the day before.

Among them he recognised a face he knew. Yes, he was certain. It was that of Dr Van Erk.

"Yes, I am indeed myself!" exclaimed the doctor, shaking Wenlock warmly by the hand. "Not knowing by what tyranny we might next be oppressed at home, I resolved to quit the sh.o.r.es of the Old World, and to seek refuge in the New; and my brother agreeing with me, we have come over with our wives and families. He will carry on mercantile pursuits,--and, by the by, he will be glad, I doubt not, to give you employment,--and I shall follow my own profession. My wife and children will, I am sure, be very glad to see you, but as yet we can show you very little hospitality.

But you look somewhat sad, my young friend. Tell me what has occurred?"

Wenlock told him the cause of his sadness.

"Well, we will give you all the consolation in our power."

Wenlock felt much pleased at meeting his old friends, and was amply employed, for some time, in obtaining accommodation for them. Every day vessels were arriving with pa.s.sengers and cargoes, but not one of them brought any account of the _Concord_. His Dutch friends, however, did their utmost to console Wenlock. He thanked them, but yet found his thoughts more than ever going back to Mary. He would have been well-pleased if Ford had kept out of his way, but that person managed to introduce himself to the Van Erks, and he felt sure he was meditating mischief of some sort. The governor then proposed that he should go on a mission on state affairs to Boston, hoping that the change of life and scene might benefit him. Wenlock having received his instructions, accordingly went on board the _Amity_, which vessel, having been thoroughly repaired, was engaged for the purpose.

"But I cannot part from you," exclaimed old Bill Rullock. "I did not think to go to sea again, but if the captain will let me work my pa.s.sage there and back, I will go along with you."

No arguments would induce the old man to give up his purpose, and Wenlock was not sorry to have so faithful a companion. Rounding Cape May, the _Amity_ sailed along the sh.o.r.es of New Jersey, steering to the north, keeping in sight of land till she came off Long Island, forming one side of the magnificent harbour of the New York Bay. Then she stood on, through Ma.s.sachusetts Bay till the long established city of Boston was reached. Wenlock had expected to meet with kindness and sympathy from the descendants of those who had been driven for conscience' sake to seek a home in the New World. However, even by those to whom he had letters he was received with coldness, and he heard remarks made about Quakers generally, and himself especially, which somewhat tried his temper. His name, too, seemed especially to excite anger among the citizens. At length he was summoned to appear before the governor of the state.

"Know you not, young man, that we allow no persons of your persuasion to remain in our state?" exclaimed the governor. "There was one, of your name too, banished not long since; and some who have ventured to return, have of necessity been put to death, as breakers of the law and rebels against the state."

"Verily, I knew not that such was the case," answered Wenlock; "and when I have performed my business here, I am ready to take my departure. I have never been here before, and truly I should be glad to hear of one of my name, hoping that he might prove a relative; for at present I know not any one to whom I am kith and kin."

"Stand aside, young man, and bring forth the prisoner, with whose trial we will proceed," exclaimed the governor, casting a frowning glance at Wenlock.

The governor was proceeding to condemn the prisoner, when a loud voice was heard, exclaiming, "p.r.o.nounce not judgment." Wenlock started, and looked towards the speaker. He almost fancied that he saw his father standing before him.

"Who are you, who thus dares to interrupt the court?" exclaimed the governor.

"I am Wenlock Christison," was the answer. "I come to prevent you from condemning the innocent."

"Then thou art my uncle!" exclaimed Wenlock, hurrying towards him. "I know thee by thy likeness to my father."