“It is remarkable that a Frenchman, who, not long before the Pilgrim settlement, had by a shipwreck been made captive among the Indians of New England, did, as the survivors report, just before he died in their hands, tell these tawny pagans that ‘God, being angry with them for their wickedness, would not only destroy them all, but also people the place with another nation, which would not live after their brutish manner.’ Those infidels then blasphemously said, ‘God could not kill them,’ which was confuted by a horrible and unusual plague, whereby they were consumed in such vast multitudes, that our first ancestors found the land almost covered with their unburied carcasses; and they that were alive were smitten into awful and humble regard of the English by the terrors which the remembrance of the Frenchman’s prophecy had imprinted on them.”[160] During the first few months of their wilderness life, little occurred of special public interest among the Pilgrims. The routine of their days was undisturbed. Engrossed by the pressing present duties of the hour, they labored to complete their preparations for the winter. Their existence was that which is common in all pioneer settlements, which has been led a thousand times since on our western prairies, and which is led to-day by the settler who rears his log-cabin under the shadow of the Rocky mountains. The country seemed lonely and monotonous.[161] “Among the few recorded incidents,” says Elliot, “we gather here and there some facts which serve to illustrate the social and moral condition of the exiles during these initial months of their western life. On the 21st of January, 1621, they celebrated public worship for the first time on shore. On the 17th of February, Standish was chosen captain, and all were arranged in military orders. This may be called their first legislative act, the first communal life of men who believed in and were forced to act out the principle of self-government; every man could vote, and the ballot of the lowest colonist counted the same as Governor Carver’s. Births and deaths varied the monotony of existence. Peregrine White, the first born in New England, had appeared in November, and six persons had died in December, among whom was Dorothy, Bradford’s wife, who was drowned. This was the beginning of a mortality which carried dismay and destruction into the weakened ranks.”[162] Measures were taken for the military protection of the colony. “A minion, a saker, and two other guns, were mounted on Fort Hill,” where a block-citadel had been erected.[163] Standish was the _beau ideal_ of a soldier—alert, provident, tireless. The words which Longfellow has put into his mouth exhibit his genial humor and quaint wisdom: