In the following story, an attempt has been made to illustrate themanners and habits of the earliest Puritan settlers in New England, andthe trials and difficulties to which they were subjected during thefirst years of their residence in their adopted country. All theprincipal incidents that are woven into the narrative are strictlyhistorical, and are derived from authentic sources, which give animpartial picture both of the virtues and the failings of theseremarkable emigrants. Unhappily, some of these incidents prove but tooclearly, how soon many of these exiles 'for conscience sake' forgot topractice those principles of religious liberty and toleration, for thepreservation and enjoyment of which they had themselves abandoned homeand kindred, and the church of their forefathers; and they tend tolessen the feelings of respect and admiration with which their piety,and their disinterested spirit, must necessarily inspire us. We cannotbut regret to find how early, in many of the Puritan communities, thatpiety became tinged with fanaticism, and that free spirit degeneratedinto bigotry and intolerance in their treatment of others, who had anequal claim with themselves to a freedom of private judgement, and tothe adoption or rejection of any peculiar forms or mode of discipline.
It is hoped, that a story founded on the history of these admirable,but sometimes misguided, men, may prove interesting to many who havehitherto been but slightly acquainted with the fate of their self-exiled countrymen; and may tend to remove the prejudice with which, inmany minds, they are regarded: for, while we remember their errors andinfirmities, we should also remember that their faults were essentiallythose of the age in which they lived, and the education they hadreceived; while their virtues were derived from the pure faith thatthey possessed, and which was dearer to them than aught on earthbeside.
The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-hound coast:
And the woods against a stormy sky,
Their giant branches tost.
And the heavy night hung dark
The hills and waters o'er,
When a hand of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore. HEMANS.
It was, indeed, a stern and rock-bound coast beneath which thegallant little Mayflower furled her tattered sails, and dropped heranchor, on the evening of the eleventh of November, in the year 1620.The shores of New England had been, for several days, dimly descried byher passengers, through the gloomy mists that hung over the dreary anduncultivated tract of land towards which their prow was turned; but theheavy sea that dashed against the rocks, the ignorance of the captainand his crew with regard to the nature of the coast, and the crazystate of the deeply-laden vessel, had hitherto prevented their makingthe land. At length the ship was safely moored in a small inlet,beyond the reach of the foaming breakers; and the Pilgrim Fathershastened to leave the vessel in which they had so long been imprisoned,and, with their families, to set foot on the land that was henceforthto be their home. Cold, indeed, was the welcome which they receivedfrom their adopted country; and cheerless was the view that met theirgaze, as they landed on a massy rock of granite, at the