All our godly pastors are to be dragged to prison . We shall see them at a Smithfield fire in King street . '' Hereupon the people of each parish gathered closer round their minister , who looked calmly upward and assumed a more apostolic dignity , as well befitted a candidate for the highest honor of his profession -- a crown of martyrdom . It was actually fancied at that period that New England might have a John Rogers of her own to take the place of that worthy in the Primer . `` The pope of Rome has given orders for a new St. Bartholomew , '' cried others . `` We are to be massacred , man and male-child . '' Neither was this rumor wholly discredited ; although the wiser class believed the governor 's object somewhat less atrocious . His predecessor under the old charter , Bradstreet , a venerable companion of the first settlers , was known to be in town . There were grounds for conjecturing that Sir Edmund Andros intended at once to strike terror by a parade of military force and to confound the opposite faction by possessing himself of their chief . `` Stand firm for the old charter-governor ! '' shouted the crowd , seizing upon the idea -- `` the good old Governor Bradstreet ! '' While this cry was at the loudest the people were surprised by the well-known figure of Governor Bradstreet himself , a patriarch of nearly ninety , who appeared on the elevated steps of a door and with characteristic mildness besought them to submit to the constituted authorities . `` My children , '' concluded this venerable person , `` do nothing rashly . Cry not aloud , but pray for the welfare of New England and expect patiently what the Lord will do in this matter . '' The event was soon to be decided . All this time the roll of the drum had been approaching through Cornhill , louder and deeper , till with reverberations from house to house and the regular tramp of martial footsteps it burst into the street . A double rank of soldiers made their appearance , occupying the whole breadth of the passage , with shouldered matchlocks and matches burning , so as to present a row of fires in the dusk . Their steady march was like the progress of a machine that would roll irresistibly over everything in its way . Next , moving slowly , with a confused clatter of hoofs on the pavement , rode a party of mounted gentlemen , the central figure being Sir Edmund Andros , elderly , but erect and soldier-like . Those around him were his favorite councillors and the bitterest foes of New England .
At his right hand rode Edward Randolph , our arch-enemy , that `` blasted wretch , '' as Cotton Mather calls him , who achieved the downfall of our ancient government and was followed XXXXX a sensible curse-through life and to his grave .
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