No house of worship, with spire and tower, and decorated
pulpit, had as yet been reared on the banks of the Merrimac. The stern
settlers came together under the open heavens, or beneath the shadow of
the old trees, to kneel before that God, whose works and manifestations
were around them.
The exercises of the Sabhath commenced. A psalm of the old and homely
version was sung, with true feeling, if not with a perfect regard to
musical effect and harmony. The brief but fervent prayer was offered,
and the good man had just announced the text for his sermon, when a
sudden tramp of feet, and a confused murmur of human voices, fell on the
ears of the assembly.
The minister closed his Bible; and the whole group crowded closer
together. "It is surely a war party of the heathen," said Mr. Ward, as
he listened intently to the approaching sound. "God grant they mean us
no evil!"
The sounds drew nearer. The swarthy figure of an Indian came gliding
through the brush-wood into the clearing, followed closely by several
Englishmen. In answer to the eager inquiries of Mr. Ward, Captain
Eaton, the leader of the party, stated that he had left Boston at
the command of Governor Winthrop, to secure and disarm the sachem,
Passaconaway, who was suspected of hostile intentions towards the
whites.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25