Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1891-06-25
An Imperishable Rock.

crowded with gay party, coasts along
the shore of Massachusetts, ploughing the
blue waters, which break In SILVER fiecked
foam beneath the paddle strokes, thread
ing her way now in, now out, among the
numerous isles and crags which adorn the
'stern and rock-bound coast" The bay
is dotted with the glistening white sails of
yachts and pleasure boats afar off in the
distance mammoth ships and steamers pass
swiftly to and fro and yonder we see a
shoal of bluish-black porpoises, putting
and snorting with every successive leap
from wave to wave.
The steamers merry party are laughing
and chatting as only such party can,
while occasionally delicious strain of
music is waited from the hurricane deck
where one of Boston's noted bands
is stationed. But suddenly an exclama-
tion. hush, and all eyes are turned upon
rock which has appeared in sight. A
Rock. | should have said The Rock"
for 1t il the one rock in all this great
country of ours, which qulckens the pulse
and tnges, with flush of pride, the cheek
of the American who stands where our
ancestors first set foot on the western
shore.
Come, let US join this merry band and
spend a few hours in Old Plymouth
Ascending broad flight of steps to the
brow of the hill, We tread upon sacred,
hallowed ground, for here were laid to
rest, during that dark, sad winter half of
their company. Here, in the following
spring, the mounds were leyelled and Indi-
an corn was planted to aludc the crafty
cunning of the red man. Passing over the
hill. we emerge upon street, to us mere
ly tedious climb from the waters edge,
past few time-worn buildings to the
green slope above, where stood the fortin-
cations and the place c"nsecrsted from the
earliest days of the colony as Burial Hill.
Yet this is Leyden street; the oldest high
way in America, SO called from the dearly
loved town Ia Holland
In my imag giuation, | picture the lew,
thatched, log hut Of the Puritan captain.
built on the side Of hill, just below the
fort; then those of Governor Carver
and John Alden, while opposite stands the
Common house, the trst shelter offered
the Pilgrim fathers and mothers in our
land. Through this same street, stalkcd
Massasot and his braves TO the council,
which was to secure peace and good will
between the red man and the white.
Down this street marched Miles Stan
dish, the Sword Of the White Man, with his
little band Of intrepid followers, towards
the batrau which was to bear them into
the heart Of the Indian encampments,
Across this street flew iiobomok, the friend
Of the Eugli>hman, to warn of the savage
band >tca.thily creeping towards the sleep
ing town. Up this street walked the
wedding procession, headed by John Alden
and the fair Priscilla.
Leaving this rcvered highway, we hasten
To follow the excursion party on their
visit to Pilgrim Hall. Surprised are we to
behold 30 many interesting relies of our
forcfathcr~ among them, in the Standi>h
case. j. Gideon, the famous Damascus
sword of thr rcdoubtable Puritan captain,
with it, but recently dtcphcrrd Persian
inscription. In little alcove is a large,
straight backed. .oaken chair, which stood at
one time beside GOV. Carver's fire place,
and seated in which the great man died
and that rude rough table yondcr is the
one on which the famous treaty with
Mas>asoit was signed. The very pictures
on thg walls have the flavor of antiquity as
they look down upon the cradle in which
Pcrcgrine White was rocked to sleep; the
musket With which King Philip was killed,
the embroidery Of LOra Standi,h Bible
given the Pilgrims 10y their pastor in
llolland-only few of the carefully treas
ured relics.
Naturally the national monument to
the foretathers is next visited, but time
does not allow me to describe this, the
greatest piece of granite statnary in the
world, so pass on to spend my last hour
at Plymouth Rock, not where it lay, three
centuries ago. half embedded in the sand,
but on an embankment above that it may
| be preserved from the ceaseless wearing
of the waters. As | stand on the rock
and glance, now at the busy town, now at
the blue eNpaEse OF water in my imagi-
nation | 90 back to that December even
ing long years ago, when
THE heavy night hung dark
The hills and waters Ger"
Looking across the turbid waste of waters,
| seem to see a little speck, just q spot on
the horizon, but, as | gaze it lengthens
and broadens, slowly creeping towards the
| harbor. As it nears the shore l perceive
a quaint and clumsy little craft, with high
stern and lofty cabins, rolling heavily in
the rough water, while the wind whistles
mournfully through the tattered canvas
and cordage. Strained and shattered Is
she, by the storm and wind, but, gladden.
ed by the sight of any land though 1t be the
| sandy shores of an unknown continent,
her weary, tempest-tossed voyagers crowd
the deck and gaze wistfully towards
! the lOuS NoW uibk
dawns. Just ahead they see a huge
bowlder, the only rock along the sandy
shore suitable for landing, and as the keel
of the Pilgrim shallop CRATES upon the
sand at It's base, | seem to see step forth
upon it first. "a glorious youth. six feet
and over in his hose of holden gray, with
the shoulders and siDews of an athlete
and the calm strong face of an Egyptian
god" Such is John Alden.
''Fslr-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon
| complexion,
Having the dew of his youth and the beauty
thereof,
Youngest Of all was he of the men who came
in the Maynower."
Then one:
"Short OF stature he was, but strongly built
and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with
muscles and sinews OF iron"
This is Miles Standish, the soldier and
hero of the Pilgrims. their dauntless de-
fender in battles, their gentle nurse in
illness, the right arm of the colony,
its modest commander and intelli-