The Last Pilgrim

That a family could weave its fragile thread, unbroken, from the days of Charlemagne and the Norman Conquest to 1564 was a major feat during some of the more uncertain times of early history. However, one family, traced to 794 A.D., did just that, and then invited termination by assuming a prominent part in activating the Puritan movement.

Members of this movement were persecuted to such an extent that those who could, fled, and in 1620, the first famous few, known to all as the Pilgrims, landed in America. Persecution continued, including martyrdoms and confiscation of properties, until no one in this movement was safe. Royalty was no longer exempt as the extirpation accelerated.

Thomas Welles, a staunch Puritan, managed to carry on, as he was a powerful land baron. A direct descendant of the very powerful Bishop Hugo De Welles, he was born in 1564. In his day, he had the ear of the King and people still whispered of the power quietly contained by these descendants. By the sixteenth century, the family was, even at this early date, 800 years old. To say they had grown tired of the barbarian-type treatment afforded Puritans would be the understatement of the century.

With the advent of a new political party or religious denomination, its inception generally goes unnoticed by other groups until it becomes a power. The Puritans were now a factor. They had grown in number and had a voice in Parliament. They were outspoken and wanted too many changes to suit the powers of the times. The party then in legislative power banished them from the ruling house. Though all parties, including the Puritans, tried to reach a compromise, they could not. Nothing would quiet them. The main stumbling block was the kind of life led by most of the people in the country. They could not condone the loose, carousing lifestyle, especially by those in public office. A courageous, God-fearing majority in the governmental body was their goal.

The situation was out of hand. There had been confrontation for years. Now, all else failing, they were to be eradicated! By this time in history, they feared for their lives. The area of Clochester was in turmoil, as the Puritan movement was especially active and politically strong there.

Hugh Welles, fourth son of Thomas, born in the troubled area of Clochester in 1590, saw security slipping away and secretly gave much thought to leaving his beloved England. Finally, as trouble escalated, he had no recourse. Still hoping the situation would cool down, he waited almost too long. Hastily gathering his family, he managed to frantically book last-minute passage on the Globe.

Once on board, they were only safe from the elements. Tension mounted as they lay quietly huddled below decks, fearing discovery. Little did they know that Colonel Brigham had men, appearing as civilians, keeping watch.

Arriving in the port town a little late to set an elaborate trap for the Puritans, he decided on a plan offered by his captains, which--out of pure jealousy--was loathed. He hated even the remote thought of sending enlisted men on a detail that did not entail drudgery. This assignment was the exact opposite. The captains suggested sending three men to watch the ship and report when all were on board. The trouble was that the men had to watch from a tavern and he had to furnish money for food and drink. Knowing his men, he was quite sure very little of the money would go for food. However, this was the best location. From this vantage point--the last building before starting down the dock--everyone could be observed. The tavern could also be easily found by the runners. It was almost impossible for one’s eye to miss a life-sized carving of a well-endowed maiden protruding from the building directly above the entrance, much like one carved on the prow of a ship. There was no lettered sign, but the pub was known far and wide as the Sailor’s Angel.

This detail was work to Colonel Brigham. He wanted to round up all the Pilgrims in one fell swoop and get back to the social life of an officer. To make a clean sweep of this could prompt a long overdue promotion. To be sure nothing went wrong, he had sent his most trusted sergeant to pick two other men, dress as civilians, and proceed to the pub at the base of the wharf. There, they were to loiter as good patrons so as not to cause suspicion, but at all times keep an eye on the Globe. Their orders were simple: when all Pilgrims were on board, they were to report to field headquarters in the basement of the King’s Cove Inn.

Unprecedented in a day when drink was hard to come by and a soldier’s pay not equal to the price, these men were to be paid just to hang around in a pub and have a few drinks on the King. Each figured he could keep this disguise and hold his liquor better than anyone in his outfit, and was more than ready for the task.

They had difficulty hiding the anticipation of their assignment as they changed to rags of their choice. The subsistence was duly doled out under the guise of ration money and they were on their way to the Sailor’s Angel.

Since they were actually on duty, under orders to keep the disguise, Sergeant Smith felt it necessary, after careful deliberation, to order a small container of grog as soon as they arrived. After all, seldom is one ordered to spend the King’s coin on his favorite pastime, and he wanted to be sure these orders were suitably carried out. Thus it was