THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
Holland, which had exhibited a republican character in its conflict with
catholic Spain, and the reformed church of which inclined to the
opinions of Calvin, offered a desirable retreat for the persecuted
Puritans of England; “and hither, in the fall of the year 1608,” says
Thomas Prince, the worthy chronicler of New England, “fled divers of Mr.
Robinson’s church from the north of England, which had been extremely
harassed; some cast into prison, some burnt in their houses, some forced
to leave their farms and families;” thither they fled accordingly, for
the purity of worship and liberty of conscience.
And now leaving England, we must attach ourselves to the history of our
puritan exiles, thus commencing their momentous pilgrimage; and wherever
it is possible so to do, we will take the worthy old Thomas Prince as
our guide, who, like the chronicler of a second Acts of the Apostles,
puts down all in good faith, even to the contentions in the church
itself. “This spring” (1608), says he, “more of Mr. Robinson’s church,
through great difficulties from their pursuers, got over to Holland; and
afterwards the rest, with Mr. Robinson and Mr. Brewster, who are of the
last, having tarried to help the weakest over before them. They first
settle at Amsterdam, and stay there a year, where Mr. Smith (another
minister from England) and his church had gotten before them.
“1609. Mr. Robinson’s church having staid at Amsterdam about a year, and
seeing that Mr. Smith and his church was fallen into contention, and
that the flames there were likely to break out in that ancient church
itself, they think it best to remove in time, before they were any way
engaged with the same; and valuing peace and spiritual comfort above
other riches, they, with Mr. Robinson, remove to Leyden, choose Mr.
Brewster assistant to him, and live in great love and harmony both among
themselves and their neighbours for above eleven years.”
In 1617 the church in Leyden began to think of removing to America, for
several weighty reasons; the principal of which were “the licentiousness
and temptations of the place; many of their children having left their
parents to become soldiers, others taking to foreign voyages, and others
to courses leading to the danger of their souls, to the great grief of
their parents, and the fear that religion might die among them; and also
from an inward zeal and great hope of laying some foundation for the
kingdom of Christ in the remote ends of the earth, though they should be
but as stepping-stones to others.” The Dutch, hearing of their
intention, made them large offers to emigrate to their colonies; but
they, preferring to go under the English government, after humble
prayers to God, decided on so doing, and to settle in a distinct body
under the general government in Virginia.
Robinson, in the name of the congregation, stated to the Virginia
company the wishes and feelings of the proposed emigrants, to which they
all subscribed their names. This letter comprised the whole spirit of
the Pilgrim Fathers. “1st (said they), We verily believe and trust the
Lord is with us; to whom, and to whose service, we have given ourselves
in many trials, and that he will graciously prosper our endeavours,
according to the simplicity of our hearts. 2nd, We are weaned from the
delicate milk of our mother-country, and inured to the difficulties of a
strange land. 3rd, The people are, for the body of them, as industrious
and frugal, we think we may say, as any company of people in the world.
4th, We are knit together as a body in a most strict and sacred bond and
covenant of the Lord, of the violation of which we make great
conscience, and by virtue whereof we hold ourselves straitly tied to all
care of each other’s good, and of the whole. 5th and lastly, It is not
with us, as with other men, whom small things can discourage, or small
discontentments cause to wish ourselves at home again.”
The Virginia company saw, as well it might, that these were men in whom
was the bone and sinew of steadfast enterprise, and they replied that
“their desire should be forwarded in the best sort, that might be for
their own and the public good.”
Another letter was also written, stating faithfully their religious
views, which was intended to be laid before the king and privy council,
praying for the royal consent to their liberty of conscience beyond the
seas. Sir John Worstenholme, to whom the letter was sent, reported “very
good news; for the king’s majesty and the bishops have consented; but,”
says he, “for your letter I would not show it at any hand, lest it
should spoil all.” Still, spite of Sir John Worstenholme’s very good
news, the chronicler records that they found it a harder piece of work
than they expected, to obtain their writ of the king for liberty in
religion; he would only consent “to connive at them, and not molest
them, provided they would carry themselves peaceably; but to tolerate
them by the public authority of his seal, that he would not do.”
Nearly a year after this it is recorded that, “notwithstanding the great
discouragement they met with from the king and bishops, yet casting
themselves on the care of Providence, they resolve to venture,” and
accordingly two agents were sent to London, to arrange all things for
their departure.
Many difficulties still remained to be overcome, factions and
disturbances having in the meantime occurred in the Virginia company. At
length, after long attendance, a patent was granted and confirmed under
the Virginia company’s seal, being made out to Mr. John Wincob, “a
religious gentleman, belonging to the Countess of Lincoln, who intended
at that time to go out; but Providence ordained it otherwise.” The
patent was sent over to Holland, together with proposals for their
transmigration from friends and merchants in London, who were willing
either to go or to adventure with them. “On receiving these,” says the
chronicler, “they first kept a day of solemn prayer, Mr. Robinson
preaching a very suitable sermon, strengthening them against their
fears, and encouraging them in their resolutions; and then they decided
how many, and who should go first, for all who were willing could not be
got ready quickly. The greater number remaining required their beloved
pastor to remain with them; their elder, Mr. Brewster, accompanying
those who should depart.”
And now, on June 10th, 1620, a ship of nine score tons being hired in
London, and the ship in Holland being ready, they spent a day in solemn
prayer, for with the Pilgrim every important act of life was an act of
religion, and their beloved pastor, anticipating their high destiny, and
the sublime doctrines of liberty that would grow out of the principles
on which their religious tenets were established, gave them a farewell
address, breathing a freedom of opinion and an independence of
authority, such as then was hardly known in the world.[1]
“I charge you,” said he, “before God and his blessed angels, that you
follow me no further than you have seen me follow the Lord Jesus Christ.
The Lord has yet more truths to break forth out of his holy word. I
cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the reformed churches, who
are come to a period in religion, and will go no further than the
instruments of their reformation. Luther and Calvin were great and
shining lights in their times, yet they penetrated not into the whole
council of God. I beseech you, remember it; ’tis an article of your
church covenant—that you be ready to receive whatever truth shall be
made known to you, from the written word of God.”
On the 21st of July, the Pilgrims left Leyden, being accompanied by
their brethren as far as Delft harbour, where many met them from
Amsterdam, to take leave and see them depart; and early the next
morning, “after a night spent in friendly and pleasant Christian
converse, the wind being fair, they went on board, their friends
accompanying them, and Robinson and they who were with him falling down
on their knees, he commended them with watery cheeks and most fervent
prayer to God; then with mutual embraces and many tears they took their
leave, and with a prosperous wind arrived at Southampton, where they
found the larger ship from London, with the rest of their company,
waiting for them.”
On the 5th of August, the two ships, the Speedwell and Mayflower, set
sail from Southampton, but had not proceeded far before the smaller
vessel, belying her name, proved leaky, and both returned to Dartmouth
for her repair. Again they weighed anchor, and having advanced about one
hundred leagues beyond the Land’s-End, the captain of the Speedwell,
either having lost courage or the ship being really unseaworthy,
declared that they must return or sink. They returned to Plymouth, and
however grievous and discouraging it was, determined to part with the
ship and all those whose hearts failed them, and taking in the rest,
with such provisions as they could well stow in the larger vessel,
resolved to proceed on the voyage alone.
After another sad parting the Mayflower again set sail, having on board
101 souls, not alone resolute men, but brave-hearted women, their wives,
some far advanced in pregnancy, children and infants. A richer freight,
fraught with more momentous consequences to humanity, never crossed the
ocean.
Midway on the Atlantic they encountered fierce storms, which so much
damaged the ship, that their arrival on the other side seemed hardly
possible. “But a passenger having brought a great iron screw from
Holland, they with it raised the beam into its place, and then,
committing themselves to the Divine will, proceeded.”
On the 10th of November, after a voyage of sixty-three days, they
entered the harbour of Cape Cod, when, falling on their knees they
blessed God for having brought them safely across the great waters.
Far-seeing and prudent as well as religious in all their actions, and in
order to avoid any after dissatisfaction, they did not leave the ship
until they had formed themselves into a body-politic, by a solemn
contract, to which they set their hands. “In the name of God, amen,”
says this remarkable document, the register of the birth of popular,
constitutional liberty in the New World, “we, whose names are
underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James,
having undertaken, for the glory of God and advancement of the Christian
faith, and honour of our king and country, a voyage, to plant the first
colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these presents,
solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God, and one of another,
covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body-politic, for
our better ordering and preservation, and furthering of the ends
aforesaid; and by virtue hereof, to enact, constitute and frame, such
just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions and offices, from
time to time, as shall be thought most convenient for the general good
of the colony. Unto which we promise all due submission and obedience.”
This instrument being signed by forty-one persons as representatives of
their families and descendants, John Carver, “a pious and well-approved
gentleman,” was chosen their governor for the first year.
It was the original intention of the emigrants to establish themselves
in the district of Virginia, but stress of weather, or the ignorance of
the pilot, or as some say the treachery of the captain of the Mayflower,
who was bribed by the Dutch to take the vessel north of their
plantation, or more probably the overruling hand of Providence, they now
found themselves, at the commencement of winter, on a bleak, barren and
unknown coast, which the inclement season forbade them to leave.
On Saturday, the 13th of November, the “people went ashore to refresh
themselves, the whales playing round about them; and they being obliged
to wade a bowshot or two to get to land, which was covered with snow,
and the weather being freezing, many took grievous colds and coughs
which ere long caused their death. Death was their welcome to this
dreary coast, which thus was early hallowed by the graves of their
friends. After resting on the sabbath-day, sixteen of their company
again went on shore, well armed, to search for a convenient place of
settlement. Many days were thus spent to no purpose, during which they
suffered greatly, lodging in the woods and travelling over dreary
country among Indian graves, into which they dug, and finding several
baskets full of Indian corn, carried them away with them, and this
served as seed-corn for the next harvest.”
On the 27th they proceeded into Cape Cod Bay; again landed, but it blew,
snowed and froze all day and night; the ground was hard frozen and
covered many inches deep with snow; they were tired with travelling up
and down the steep hills and valleys; they dug in divers places, “but
found no more corn, nor any thing else but graves.” What an omen this
for the superstitious, if there were any such among them! Two Indian
wigwams they saw, but no natives; and thus, with nothing comfortable to
relate, they returned on the 1st of December to their ship. In the midst
of these dreary prospects it is recorded that Mrs. Susanna White was
delivered of a son, the first-born of European parentage in New England.
He was called Peregrine, and lived to be eighty-four. In the meantime
death was busy in the little company, and the next entry after this
birth records four deaths.
On the 6th of December the shallop was again sent out, with ten of their
principal men, to sail round the bay and discover, if possible, a better
place for a settlement. “The weather was still intensely cold, and the
spray of the sea froze on them till their clothes looked as if they were
glazed, and felt like coats of iron.” Reaching the bottom of the bay,
they saw at night the smoke of Indian fires at four or five miles
distance. The next day some of their number landed, travelled along the
shore, and again found graves and deserted wigwams, but neither saw any
natives nor yet any place that they liked. The next morning they rose
betimes, and their prayers being ended, day dawning and the tide high,
they heard “a great and strange cry,” the Indian war-whoop, which was
followed by a flight of arrows; on the discharge of their muskets,
however, the Indians fled, after which, returning thanks to God, they
entered their shallop and pursued their course. In the afternoon a
fearful tempest overtook them, which increased as the day wore on, and
their pilot having mistaken his course, “they were nearly cast away,
when the providence of God showed a fair sound before them, and though
it was very dark and rained hard, they lay to, part went on shore, spite
of danger from the savages, and after much difficulty kindled a fire.”
As the morning dawned, the place was found to be a small secure island.
“And this being the last day of the week, they here dried their stuff,
fixed their pieces, rested, and returned thanks to God for their many
deliverances; and on the following day kept here their Christian
sabbath.”
Early on Monday morning they landed, their faith fixed on the Rock of
Ages, and crossed the rocky threshold of that great land which was to
receive from them an imperishable impress. And long as America stands
will its people regard the rock which then received their footsteps as
the altar and bulwark of religion and liberty. Man is often unconscious
of the sublimity of his actions; so was it now. God had guided the
Pilgrims thither; their home was not to be in the milder climate of
Virginia, where the affluent shores, laughing with the abundance of
fruit and flowers, might welcome them in the glory of summer; they were
carried northward, in the inclemency of winter, to an iron-bound coast;
their landing was on a barren rock, and the very harvests of their
future years were reaped from corn dug out of Indian graves. They were
to be the forefathers of a race pure in life, steadfast in principle,
sincere in religion; their human virtues were here called forth by their
mutual sufferings; their courage and perseverance tested by the severest
hardships; their faith in God assured by the overruling of his
providence and the continuance of his mercies. Such and so high was the
destination of the Pilgrims, who now marching inland, found divers
corn-fields and running brooks, and who, eight days later, the Mayflower
being safely harboured, still further examined the coast, again finding
“neither wigwam, Indian, nor navigable river, but brooks of sweet, fresh
water running into the sea, with choice land formerly possessed and
planted.”
On the 20th, after still further examination, they decided to settle “on
the mainland on a high ground facing the bay, where corn had been
planted three or four years before, a sweet brook running under the
hill, with many delicate springs.” Here they commenced building,
frequently interrupted by storms of wind and rain, many of them “ill of
grievous colds and the great and many hardships they had endured, and
amid death and terror of the Indians. And here on the last day of the
year, being Lord’s-Day, the Sabbath was kept for the first time in the
place of their building, and the name of Plymouth given to the
settlement, in grateful memory of the Christian friends they found at
Plymouth in England the last time they left their native land.”
In March, it is recorded that “a south wind brought fine weather, and
that the birds sang in the woods most pleasantly;” but the sun shone and
the birds sang above many graves. Of the forty-one who signed the
“solemn compact” before-mentioned on board the Mayflower, twenty alone
survived; the living were scarcely sufficient to bury the dead; the hale
to attend to the sick. Among those who died thus early, were some of the
most distinguished men; the excellent John Carver, whom they had by
mutual consent appointed to be their governor, had on his first landing
lost a son, and soon after the Mayflower took her departure for England,
he himself was carried off suddenly, and his wife, broken-hearted, did
not long survive.
As spring advanced and the general sickness abated, the hardships of
want had yet to be encountered. In the autumn of the following year
their numbers were increased by fresh emigrants, who came unprovided
with supplies, and the colony for six months had to subsist on half
allowance. “I have seen men,” says Winslow, “stagger by reason of
faintness for want of food.” In the next July we hear that their number
was about one hundred persons, all in health, “that is to say, free from
sickness, though not weakness;” they had nearly sixty acres of corn
planted, besides well-furnished gardens. Unfortunately, however, a
number of emigrants who stayed some time with them, proved to be “an
unruly company, who exceedingly wasted and stole their corn, and
secretly reviled them,” and their crop proving scanty, a famine would
have ensued but for “an unexpected Providence” which sent a ship into
their harbour, from which they bought knives and beads, and thus were
able to trade with the Indians for corn and beaver. Nor were their
sufferings from want of short duration. In the third year of their
settlement, their want of food was so great that they “knew not at night
where to find a bit in the morning,” and for three or four months
together had neither bread nor corn, and having but one boat left, six
or seven of their company took it by turns to go out and fish, never
returning without a supply, though they might remain five or six days
out; and when the supply was short, the remainder dug shell-fish from
the sands for sustenance. And thus they lived through the summer, now
and then getting a deer from the woods, and in the winter helping out
with fowl and ground-nuts. In the midst of this season of want arrived a
ship from England, bringing out many of their old friends and various of
the wives and children of those who already were here, “and the best
dish,” writes the simple chronicler, “that we could present them with,
was a lobster or piece of fish, without bread or anything else but a cup
of fair water.” When these passengers, says he, “saw our poor and low
condition, they were dismayed and full of sadness,” adding that the
“long continuance of our spare diet, and our labours abroad, had
somewhat abated the freshness of our complexion.” Yet through all their
sufferings, their faith in the providence of God never failed them.
At the risk of prolonging this portion of our history too far, we must
be allowed to make two further extracts from their chronicle. Spite of
their hopes of a good harvest from the promising appearance of their
sixty acres of corn-land in May, by the month of July the corn had
withered in the blade and stalk; “their hopes were overthrown, and their
joy turned into mourning, besides which a ship, which was expected with
supplies from England, after long waiting for, was a wreck far out at
sea.” The most courageous were now disheartened, and by public
authority, a day was appointed for humiliation and prayer, and the
seeking of the Lord in their distress. And a speedy answer, say they,
“was given, to our own and the Indians’ admiration. For though in the
former part of the day it was very close and hot, without a cloud or
sign of rain, yet towards evening, before the exercise was over, clouds
gathered, and the next morning distilled such soft and gentle showers as
gave cause of joy and praise to God. Softly fell the rain, without wind
or violence for fourteen days, and the corn and other fruits revived so
as was wonderful to see, and the Indians were astonished to behold; and
there was a joyful prospect of abundant harvest.”
Similar in spirit to this is the record in the “Charlestown Chronicle,”
seven years later. “Now, as the winter came on, provisions began to be
very scarce, and the people were necessitated to live upon shell-fish,
and ground-nuts, and acorns, and these got with much difficulty in the
winter time. Upon which people were very much tried and discouraged,
especially when they heard that the governor himself had the last batch
of bread in the oven; and it was believed that the ship sent to Ireland
for provisions was cast away or taken by pirates. But God, who delights
to appear in great straits, did work marvellously at this time; for
before the very day appointed to seek the Lord by prayer and fasting in
the month of February, the ship came in laden with provisions.” Mather
relates of this incident, “that Winthrop, the governor, was distributing
the last handful of meal to a poor man, distressed by the wolf at the
door, when at that instant they espied a ship at the mouth of the
harbour, laden with provisions for all. Upon which occasion the day of
fast was changed, and ordered to be kept as a day of thanksgiving.” It
is in beautiful commemoration of some such remarkable incident as this
that Thanksgiving Day is still held annually throughout the New England
States.
The system of common property, which had at first been established in
the colony, not being found to work well, was discontinued; and in the
spring of 1624, a little land was apportioned to each settler, which was
soon well cultivated; for “now even women and children worked in the
field;” corn, therefore, so far from being scarce, formed, in a short
time, a profitable article of commerce with the Indians, who bartering
their beaver and other skins with the colonists for corn, furnished them
with the means of lucrative traffic with the mother-country.
The spot to which Divine Providence guided the Pilgrims had, as if in
preparation for them, been depopulated by pestilence only a few years
before; the land had the advantage of former cultivation, and there were
no inhabitants to dispute with them possession. The distant smoke of
their fires, and occasional hostile demonstrations, indicated that
Indians were in the vicinity; and in order to be prepared for whatever
danger might occur, the settlers very soon assumed a military
organisation; Miles Standish, one of the bravest of their company, being
appointed their captain. The Indians, however, were by no means
hostilely disposed.
On the contrary, in the month of March, three months only after their
settlement, an Indian marched boldly into their little town of Plymouth,
and astonished them by exclaiming, “Welcome, Englishmen! Welcome!” He
was Samosit, chief of the tribe of Wampanoags, who inhabited the country
at about five days’ journey from the coast, and who had learned a few
words of English from English fishermen who frequented it; and now in
the name of his nation he bade them welcome to the soil which there were
no Indian occupants to claim. Samosit was hospitably treated, and again
returned accompanied by Squanto the Indian, who, having in 1614 been
kidnapped by Hunt, had escaped from Spain to England, where he lived
some years. An amicable and easy intercourse was thus established with
the Indians. From him they learned that Masassoit, the greatest of the
Indian sachems or kings, was at that very time advancing with his
brother and a great company to visit them.
Preparations were made to receive this great Indian chief, with such
respect as the state of the colony permitted. Two knives, a copper
chain, with a jewel in it, were presented to him; and to his brother a
knife and a jewel, with a pot of strong water, some biscuit and butter.
Speeches were mutually made, refreshments partaken of, and finally a
league of amity formed, which was inviolably observed for above fifty
years.
The first marriage in the colony was solemnised on the 12th of May.
Bradford, who on the death of Carver had been appointed governor of the
colony, shortly after the visit of Masassoit, sent two of the colonists,
Winslow and Hopkins, with Squanto as their guide, to explore the country
and confirm the league of amity. They found the country still almost
depopulated; they passed through fine old corn-fields and meadows, but
there were neither cattle nor inhabitants; heaps of bones lay where had
dwelt and died the former inhabitants. They were kindly received by
Masassoit, at his residence at Pokanoket, forty miles from Plymouth.
The English having thus secured the friendship of Masassoit, other
sachems sought their alliance also, and a powerful chief, who threatened
them with hostilities, was compelled to sue for peace.
In 1622, a colony of sixty persons, the “unruly company” already
mentioned, having finally settled at Weymouth, the first colony in
Boston harbour, were soon reduced to great want; and having excited the
Indians by their injustice and violence, a plot was formed utterly to
destroy them. The execution of this was, however, prevented by
Masassoit, who being ill, and as was reported at the point of death,
recovered in consequence of medicines administered by Winslow, who had
been sent from Plymouth to visit him. In gratitude for this kind
service, he revealed the plot of the Massachusetts Indians against the
Weymouth colony; and governor Bradford sent out Standish with eight men,
to apprise them of their danger, and to aid them in opposing it. The
colony, saved by the intrepidity of Standish, was, after this, soon
dispersed, some joining the people of Plymouth, and the rest returning
to London. The victory of Standish was very decisive, and inspired the
Indians with great terror. As a peace-offering they afterwards
despatched a small boat, laden with presents, to the governor of
Plymouth, but it was wrecked and three of its crew drowned, which still
further impressed the minds of the savages. They recalled the prediction
of one of their older chiefs, and declared that the God of the English
was angry with them, and that the destruction of their nation was at
hand. When the good pastor Robinson heard of this slaughter of the
Indians, he wrote to his friends in great sorrow: “Oh how happy a thing
it would have been if you had converted some before you killed any.”
The settlement of Plymouth proving but a poor investment of capital to
the London merchants, who had embarked in it as a mercantile
speculation, was soon not only disregarded by them, but a trading vessel
was sent out to their shore, the object of which was to compete with
them in their trade with the Indians. On this, Winslow was sent over to
London, to purchase for himself and seven others the entire shares of
the London adventurers. The purchase was made, and six years’ monopoly
of trade with the Indians freed the colony of its burdens.
Plymouth now began to flourish; the land was equitably divided; each man
laboured for himself and his family, burdened neither by debt to foreign
usurers, nor having to provide for “quarter-day.” Their government was a
pure democracy; each male inhabitant had a vote, the governor had two.
Admirable and loyal as was the conduct of the Plymouth colony, and deep
root as it had immediately taken in the soil to which the Indians
themselves had made them welcome, they found it impossible to obtain a
charter from King James. They possessed, therefore, according to English
law, no right to assume a separate jurisdiction. “It was,” says
Bancroft, “the virtues of the colonists alone which gave them
stability.”
The progress of population was slow, nevertheless their enterprise took
a wide range. They were soon possessed of Cape Ann; they had an
extensive domain on the Kennebec, and a settlement on the Connecticut.
Numbers of their brethren followed them from Leyden; but their excellent
pastor Robinson, like Moses himself, was not permitted to enter the land
of promise. He died at Leyden in 1625, to the great grief of the
Pilgrims, who had not appointed a minister for their church, Elder
Brewster merely officiating until he should arrive and assume the
ministry. His wife and children, with others, afterwards emigrated.
Ten years from its first establishment, New Plymouth was possessed of
only 300 inhabitants. It had grown like the oak and the teak tree,
slowly, but it was firm as iron to the very core. Religious liberty was
the purpose of the first settlers, and they desired no increase but of
men like-minded with themselves. “Out of small beginnings,” said
Governor Bradford, “great things have been produced; and as one small
candle may light a thousand, so the light here kindled hath shone to
many, yea to our whole nation.”