[Illustration]
The Women of the Mayflower
and
Women of Plymouth Colony
By
Ethel J. R. C. Noyes
Plymouth, Massachusetts
1921
Copyright, 1921, by
ETHEL J. R. C. NOYES.
Linotyped and Printed by Memorial Press, Plymouth, Mass.
FOREWORD.
The Pilgrim Women have been written about so little that it is indeed
a pleasure to welcome a book bearing the title, “The Women of the
Mayflower and Plymouth Colony.” History has dwelt long and minutely
upon the Pilgrim Fathers and their great adventure, but has passed
over the women with a generalization and occasionally a tribute. Even
their contemporaries have had but little to say about them. The author
of this little book is to be highly commended therefore for this much
needed addition to our meagre store of literature about the mothers of
this Nation.
There is much need to-day to perpetuate their spirit, to practise
their faith, to maintain their ideals. They loved liberty and endured
hardship, sacrifice and suffering for its sake. They built the homes
of the Nation on the foundation of English ideals of home and family
life which we cherish to-day as ours. They served their homes and the
community life of the colony with loyal and unswerving devotion. They
brought up their families in those rugged virtues and a living faith in
God, without which nations perish. They have a message for us to-day,
calling us back, not to their austerities but to their righteousness
and spirituality. Such books as this help to spread that message
throughout the Nation.
(Signed) ANNE ROGERS MINOR,
_President General,
National Society, Daughters of the American
Revolution_.
The Women of the Mayflower
and
Women of Plymouth Colony
[Illustration: CONTENTS]
THE GREAT NORTH ROAD 11
THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT 23
UNDER THE LINDENS OF LEYDEN 35
THE FIRE OF FAITH 55
THE FIRST STREET 83
THE BRIDE SHIP 119
BENEATH THE PINES OF PLYMOUTH 131
A CHAPLET OF ROSEMARY 183
THE GREAT NORTH ROAD.
[Illustration: Part of design of sampler made by Lora Standish. May be
seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth.]
THE GREAT NORTH ROAD.
Three hundred and a few more years ago the Great North Road leading
from London to Edinburgh ran through and by an English village in
Nottinghamshire just as it had done three hundred years earlier than
that and as it has these three hundred years. The streets of the
village ran toward it and into it as brooks flow to a river, it being
the main thoroughfare of travel and therefore source of all outside
interests for the inhabitants of the village.
At the corner as one could say, of one of these little streets or
roads where it joined the Great Road, one spring day of the sixteenth
century, we might see a group of some of the villagers, young people
principally, and it is plain some event of unusual interest has
called them together; they are laughing and waving to a young man who
rides away from them down the road, a friend who has been one of them
from childhood and popular as evidenced by the number who have been
wishing him a safe journey and all the usual farewells of any time and
place. This young man with the pleasing face and manner is the son of
the postmaster of the village and he goes to college; his erstwhile
companions gaze after his retreating figure down the Great Road through
the meadows and farm lands and there is one girl looks the longest--a
girl named Mary.
Other times other manners in some things--yet even today in another
country village we have seen the postmaster’s son leave home for
college, not on horseback but in an automobile, and a gay crowd of
his friends seeing him off, his presence to be missed in much the
same degree as among those we are now viewing with the mind’s eye.
Though time and circumstance be the result of the passing of three
hundred years, human nature remains as unchanged as the sky and sea;
the student of the present whom we mention may be cousin of a Cabinet
official, that scarcely is remembered at the moment, neither is it
thought of that the boy who rides on the Great Northern Road is a
member of one of the most substantial county families, with powerful
friends ecclesiastical and lay. As the turn of the road will soon take
him from sight, he looks back at the group watching him for a final
wave of his hat, then rides on towards his destination, Cambridge,
thinking, perhaps, of the gentle Mary, whom we have noted, whose fine
character and winning ways are already an influence with him and not
thinking at all, or knowing, of another Mary who is to be perhaps an
equal if not more potent influence in his life--a woman in as great a
contrast in rank and circumstance as the difference may be between a
queen and a village maid.
The gay group now lessens as some turn their steps towards their daily
tasks, a few of the boys perchance to a long walk to the nearest
school, few and far between in those days; others to help in the farm
work, if parents could not spare them; the girls to look after the
flocks on the Commons, or home work, such as cooking, wool spinning,
caring for the children or the sick. In this time and locality no
hospitals, orphanages or homes for the aged were there to relieve the
sick or homeless; friendship and charity must indeed have reached a
crest among these only moderately well to do people, education was
backward from conditions easily found, yet a thread of knowledge of
life in other countries as well as their own came almost daily to these
quiet, rustic people, not by books or newspapers, (the first seen
rarely, the last not existing), nor by letters which were not publicly
delivered by the government until some time later, but by the constant
travellers on foot or on horseback by the Great Road. The post house,
both an inn, relay station and receptible for news, though not a post
office as is today thought of by the words, was the finest house in
this particular town and well known, from the north country to London.
The position of postmaster was a coveted benefaction of the government,
the salary being large and enabling the official to lease the manor
house from a wealthy ecclesiastic. The office at this time had been
retained in one family for several generations. Thus the men and
women and children, of course, had plenty to talk about beside their
local interests at gatherings at the inn or after church services on
Sundays, for the old Church still was revered and followed, the changes
that were coming to some of its then supporters not yet discernable.
As we have selected a spring day for our glimpse into this long ago
life we may hear conversation among our young friends of the coming
May Day fetes and procession of mummers and maskers, and plans being
formed and opinions given as to who should act the usual characters in
the masque of Robin Hood. It was a pity indeed that “Will” would not be
with them this year; who might be Alan a Dale in his stead? But Will
was graver since learning Latin and Greek, perhaps he would not care
for their good times as much as he used to. A mistake surely--Will was
just as sociable and genial as ever.
Thus Mary and an Alice and Elizabeth and another Mary and Katherine
chatted away of coming pleasures and absent friends as blithe as any
similar bevy of girls in a far futured century from theirs can do.
In front of one of the cottages another group has gathered; a peddler
has come in and the older women have let the brew and baking wait a few
moments to hear the news of the towns he has come from on his chain
of travel, where other friends dwell, and to see his merchandise. The
girls’ eyes gleam as they join the listeners and prospective buyers,
departing Will and coming dances forgotten for the moment in this new
interest of the day. Joy! Patty, across the river, has sent a message
to Bess; not a written note, oh, no, for neither she could write nor
Bess could read it, but a message well delivered by the friendly vender
of trifles, so why give a thought to a lack of ability to read or write
just then, when one has learned, nevertheless, the latest important
event in the life of a dear friend in her very own words. The peddler
was a reliable and patient transmitter of words or gifts; a telephone
and parcel post in one, and always a welcome visitor. Today he might be
telling of the pageant lately given in a city not far away in distance,
but far in fact to them, to entertain the Queen on a visit she had
made there in the interests of the enterprise and industry that “Good
Queen Bess” endeavored to prosper in her land. Fashions were also
described, as the old time peddlers were indeed specialists in much
beside selling commodities and fancies. It is decided that Molly “shall
have a new ribbon to tie in her nut brown hair.” A new clasp knife
is needed by some one;--listen to the tale of the strange vegetables
now being brought for the nobles and gentry from the place called the
Queen’s kitchen garden in Holland. He had seen them and they were good
to taste;--a measure of linen? yes; starch just imported and the use
explained; a looking-glass, none too many on hand for comfort; a Bible
printed in English by a Dutch printer--he has just sold one to the
rector in a neighboring town--and so the peddler passes by.
An arrival at the inn, later in the day, of a high dignitary of the
Church with his train of employees made bustle about the village while
horses were changed. Towards evening, many of the people gathered about
the manor house, old in their day, and while the sunset gleamed in the
fish ponds on the estate and touched the church’s spire, they talked
of that day’s and other day’s events, discussed the curtailment of
the commons, as the landlords enclosed more and more, whereof one had
said not that geese were stolen from the common but the common taken
from under the geese; stories heard from travellers, or doubted what
they could not believe. A noted personage had passed that way quite
recently who had made more than ordinary impression, a gentleman of
the court going on an important mission to Scotland, then quite as
foreign seeming a country as Holland, where this gentleman had lived
also. He had talked especially with Will, the postmaster’s son and
seemed glad to hear about his studies, and was altogether friendly. But
few travellers changed the course of the lives of any of the dwellers
in this community as this same pleasant gentleman was to do for some.
Could Mary have dreamed that she should see her Will one day riding
away again, not to studies of Latin and Greek but in company with this
same gallant gentleman, to the study and knowledge of a new world and
language, as private secretary of Queen Elizabeth’s ambassador to
Holland?
Neighborly visits, while the twilight lingers after babies are in their
cradles, for recounting impressions and retelling news; thus the women
of that little village close a day like many another of which their
lives were made.
“Weaving through all the poor details
And homespun warp of circumstance
A golden woof-thread of romance.”
Time to measure of several years, is spent almost unnoted by these
quiet dwellers in the village of Scrooby, the village we have pictured;
life for them does not greatly change, but for William Brewster, the
postmaster’s son, change, variety, experience, have filled each day
since Mr. Davidson, the Queen’s ambassador and advisor, called him to
become his secretary and confidential friend. The experiences of this
period both abroad and in his own country have been narrated by many
and may be read in various writings. At the close of these interesting
years, when all things pointed to a continuance of the brilliant
life stretching before him as courtier or politician, suddenly all
was changed. One day, news came to Scrooby, as to the rest of the
country, that Mary the Beautiful, exiled Queen of Scots, was dead. How
this event directly affected William Brewster and brought him to his
home again may also be read elsewhere. He became once more a country
resident, welcomed and beloved by all his old friends. The day of days
dawned for Mary and smiled upon her marriage with Will. He received the
appointment to the Scrooby post, in succession to his father, so the
old manor house became home to Mary for many years, and as the wife of
the most respected and admired man of the community--the leader in
thought and opinion, her days must have been filled with honest pride
and pleasure and love for her husband and children. That these happy
years should close with anxiety, distress, poverty as her portion was
because of the very importance of her husband’s position.
The causes which made for the startling contrast were slow in gathering
yet when accumulated, the effects followed with rapidity. Naturally,
as William Brewster settled back into his old place at the home of his
boyhood, the differences he had noted between life on the Continent
and in his native country made an ever recurrent impression. The word
pictures he drew of vastly different scenes and manners, customs and
dress found an ever ready audience and were recounted in the effort
to broaden and educate his hearers. At the same time, he resumed
acquaintance with college friends in other places and persuaded some to
move into his locality.
During these years, the farmers found living much more difficult,
owing to landlord’s selfishness who were growing richer while their
tenants grew poorer, also these country people found their religious
life growing more difficult. Church and State were one, and ordered
its subjects’ lives from the beginning to the end; persons who did
not care to be so controlled were soon made to see the error of their
ways. Nevertheless, as the Bible was made accessible to more of the
people from being printed in their own language, and as workers from
the Continent, chiefly Holland, came to live and mix with the English,
other ideas and views were taken by some, quite different from the long
dominant ones of the State Church.
Enough of these persons who thought alike separated from the old Church
to call themselves a new Church and held religious services among
themselves at their own houses. William Brewster was the leader in his
part of the country, and so many gladly followed his teachings and
example that the Church tried in every way to restrain them. Brewster’s
personal charm and influence, his intellect and generous spirit drew
countless numbers of men and women for miles around to his home for the
worship they conducted according to their ideas of right and liberty of
conscience. After the service in the old Chapel of the manor house, he
entertained all the company at dinner.
Just here we can see Mary Brewster, the sympathetic and charming
hostess, her fair face silhouetted against the dark, age old wainscot
of the refectory or dining-room, of the manor inn, surrounded by her
and her husband’s early friends and those of later years, loved by them
all for herself no less than as the wife of their revered leader.
These gatherings came to be held in secret, of necessity, as the
members were liable to arrest for absenting themselves from the
regular Church services and teaching other views. Spies were set to
report their actions, and some were called before the magistrates and
sent to prison. It became plain that they could not continue in that
manner--uncertainty and anxiety becoming daily companions.
Queen Elizabeth died; her successor rode down from Scotland on the
Great North Road and stopped with all his retinue at Scrooby. This was
doubtless the last brilliant assembly that the manor saw, when the home
of the Brewster’s. The people hoped for better things at his accession,
but soon learned that he was to be just as hard upon them and times
would be worse. Plans were made among them under the guidance of
Brewster for emigration to Holland where, as he knew, there was liberty
and welcome for all.
It is not difficult to realize the reluctance with which they came to
this decision, to leave all their natural associations, to give up
much that was dear with almost no hope of a return. Sad indeed were
these days for Mary Brewster and the other women of the community who
were preparing like her to part with much of their belongings, their
homes and friends who could not think as they did but were cherished,
notwithstanding.
“Well worthy to be magnified are they
Who with sad hearts of friends and country took
A last farewell, their loved abodes forsook,
And hallowed ground in which their fathers lay.”
* * * * *
The final summer for them in the old home passed; that each sunset
brought a certain regret, each rose that bloomed a more than passing
attention we may believe. Yet it seemed the best thing they could do
for themselves and their children. In the place where they would make
their new home others of English birth and similar experiences were
already settled, having been, as they, forced to leave their own land;
at least they would be welcomed by and could have intercourse and
sympathy with those of their own race and country, advice and help also
in the matter of the problem of living--a somewhat staring one, as they
were ignorant of any solution but their own. Curiosity, too, supposed
ever to be an attribute of women, might pierce their melancholy a
little, and they had heard enough to wish to behold for themselves
since the opportunity had come; the enthusiasm for adventure on the
part of the children must have lightened the prospect as well. The pain
was in giving up the dear interests, the fond associations of their
lives.
Dull indeed the eye of fancy which cannot see Mary Brewster with her
two little daughters coming down the stone steps of the manor house in
a golden evening, to follow the path through the meadow fields towards
Ryton stream and there wander on its banks, visiting favorite nooks and
listening to the bird’s good night, for them seeming notes of farewell.
As Experience wears ever the same dress, her mirror must reflect for
each of us some such scene as this.
THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT.
[Illustration: Design of carving on pew back from old Church at
Scrooby, England. May be seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth.]
THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT.
A ship had been engaged to meet them at Boston from where these
travellers were to sail. The first stage of their journey was
accomplished by their arrival at that town. Since the edict that
whoever did not subscribe to and uphold the State Church must leave the
country, one would suppose that their proposed departure would not have
been difficult, but when it was discovered how many desired to go and
had so arranged, malice itself must have been the cause of the refusal
of the authorities to permit it. The ship’s master then had to be well
paid to consent to take them away in secret. Instead of meeting them at
the appointed time in daylight, he kept them waiting until night, but
they all were finally on board with their baggage. Before the ship had
gotten a fair start, however, they were stopped by the port authorities
who had been warned by the ship’s owner, himself. The voyagers were
taken from the ship back to the town in small boats, their belongings
examined and those of most value as well as all their money taken from
them, the women having to undergo as thorough a search of their persons
as the men, which their own chronicler speaks of with indignation.
Still further embarrassment awaited these women when they were all
marched through the town in the early morning and people hurried into
the streets to stare at them as at a spectacle, and followed them into
the court room. Here the magistrates were more favorably disposed
toward them but were obliged to order their imprisonment until the
Lords in Council should decide their case. After a month’s confinement,
which was made only less trying and uncomfortable by the kind hearted
magistrates--to their great credit--the women and children and most
of the men were dismissed and sent back whence they came, by order of
the Council; the more prominent men were kept till the autumn was far
advanced before their freedom was granted.
The wounds to their feelings were healed by determination, and after
an unexpected winter among their friends, who in vain urged the
abandonment of their plans, some of them were ready to make a second
attempt to accomplish their object.
Brewster and several men, especially his friend, John Robinson, made
other and as they thought safer arrangements for this venture. So one
bleak day at the end of the winter, the women and children, with the
necessary baggage, embarked in a small boat at an inconspicuous place
on the coast, and sailed out on the sea. The large boat chartered for
the voyage was to await them at an appointed place near the shore,
between Grimsby and Hull, and the men were to go by land to meet it and
the small boat bringing their families and possessions; all were to
board it, and hoping for a more trusty master of this ship before news
of their plans would get to unfriendly ears, would be away.
Such good time was made by the little boat from shore to rendezvous,
that it reached the appointed place before the larger ship arrived and
must ride at anchor in a choppy sea. The women being unaccustomed to
travel by sea were most uncomfortable, and the weather becoming worse,
with the boat pitching and tossing so continuously they were driven to
desperation and begged the seamen to run the boat into an inlet where
the water was quiet, that they might have some rest. The men evidently
compassionate, did so, but it was a most unfortunate move, though
seemingly harmless. The night was spent in that strange and lonely
place, while their thoughts must have been busy with questionings as
to the non-arrival of the ship and the possibility of the men being
arrested before they could get to them; the cold was penetrating and in
their efforts to keep the children warm and quiet, the keeping up of
their own courage was under long odds.
In the dimness of the dawn, they could see the ship making anchor,
and on shore, their men could also be seen, so hope arose with the
morning, soon to be overcast, however, when it was realized that their
little boat was fast on shore, and no chance of release till the tide
rose. The resourceful Dutch captain of the larger ship, endeavoring
to honestly earn his money, sent his own small boat to shore to gain
time by taking on the men. These activities gave the children some
entertainment at least, we suppose, and they doubtless waved and called
to their fathers and friends as the first boat load left shore and
boarded the ship; the second trip was begun when suddenly the watchful
captain saw an armed company appearing in the distance; one glance and
his efforts were all in the direction of getting himself and his boat
to safety, no matter who might be on it or who not on it. His sails
were quickly run up, his anchor raised, notwithstanding the entreaties
of the men, who also realized the situation, to send them ashore, at
least, if he would not stay. The plight of the women and children,
helpless onlookers of this tragic end of their plans, drove the men
wellnigh frantic, both on the ship and on shore. The ship was soon out
of sight, flying before a good wind, but into as great a storm as they
left breaking behind.
Quick consultation among the remaining men decided who should try to
escape and who would remain with the women. It was wiser that not
all should be taken this time if it could be avoided. Some of them,
therefore, thus leaving their friends and families in this dire
situation, got safely away, though their position was no more enviable
than those husbands and brothers who were taken away on the ship. No
marvel that the women, even the bravest, were heartsick and in tears,
with their husbands apparently lost and the children, frightened, cold
and sobbing, clinging to them. But they had two or three of the men,
and well could Mary Brewster be a tower of strength to most, seeing her
own husband still on the shore and knowing what a rock he would be for
them all to lean on.
When the company of men on horseback and on foot came to the water’s
edge, where the boatload of women and the few men awaited their fate
at their hands, they placed them under arrest and hurried them to the
nearest town, to the court.
With their former experience in mind, they anticipated a long, dreary
imprisonment; but unlooked for circumstances pleaded their cause. Each
magistrate before whom they were taken in turn, with ever increasing
haste, seemed anxious to shelve the responsibility of a sentence.
Their case seemed so innocent and pitiable, the appearance of so many
despondent women and chilled and shivering children, so appealing, that
no justice could harden his heart sufficiently to imprison them, more
especially when their only crime seemed to be the desire to be with
their husbands, wherever they went, which was certainly a compliment
to men in general. When urged to go to their homes, their reply that
they had no longer any homes, capped the climax, and, fearing criticism
of any harsh treatment, the magistrates were most eager to be rid of
the matter on any excuse to themselves. Without realizing it, as the
nerves of the women were strained to the breaking point, they certainly
affected the nerves of the men, and when the judges dismissed them,
finally, from sheer desperation, even the men of the company being
included, it would have been hard to say which parted from the other
with most pleasure.
That day’s experience, in all its misery, however, advertised them in
an unimagined way, for, though they only desired an inconspicuous and
quiet life, the story of their wanderings and hardships was soon talked
of and many came to hear of them and consider their cause with interest
and sympathy, and, indeed, led to their making new friends and gaining
help later on. Nevertheless, their weariness was far from over, and,
throughout that spring, Brewster and Robinson, in the face of other
disappointments and difficulties, used their final resources to get the
women and children and themselves out of their net of trouble.
Yet in the end their dauntless efforts were successful. Their own
historian tells us that, notwithstanding, they all got away after a
time and “met together again according to their desires, with no small
rejoicing.”
* * * * *
This happy place of meeting and rejoicing was Amsterdam, the city
of their intentions when planning to leave England. The comparing
of adventures since they had been swept apart by the tumultuous
circumstances of their departure must indeed have been a refreshment to
their minds as the safe arrival at their destination gave rest to their
bodies.
The anticipated welcome of the English people, who had already settled
in the city and had churches for worship according to their several
ideals, was cordial and sympathetic. We may be sure that the women of
the longer residence were only too happy to show and tell of this
wonderful city, to the newcomers, and that the women in whom we are
especially interested would have been glad indeed that such guides and
advisors should have been there to help them assimilate the countless
new impressions which were next in the path of their experience. While
each old friend or comparatively new acquaintance who had been of
their original party at home, must have grown doubly dear by similar
situation in the surrounding strangeness of this new world with all its
marvels and perplexities. The contrast between the quiet existence they
had led so long and the bustling, colorful life into which they were
plunged, might well have dazed them for a time had not a certain sort
of commotion and change attended them, in the interval, and been an
unforseen preparation for steadiness in any confusion of circumstance.
We may picture Mary Brewster, an example of their steadfast purpose,
meeting the new and trying conditions of poverty, a new language and
different modes of living in calm cheerfulness. Love and loyalty to
the men of their families would actuate every woman to do her best in
making the homes these same men had now to struggle to provide. Mutual
understanding and common interests were great factors in smoothing the
rough places. These men, now or afterwards, never thought of going
first as pioneers to provide a home for their wives and sisters to come
to; they well knew that the women were the ones to make the homes for
them. It was such a matter of course that the question seems never to
have arisen, likewise never commented on; one of the reasons why we
encounter such a scarcity of details that we would gladly read in their
records.
At this time even the names of the women seem hidden as by the very
secrecy of their journeyings. Later the mist clears for us somewhat.
Only the figures of Mary Brewster and her young daughters, Fear and
Patience, Mrs. Robinson, the pastor’s wife, and her daughters are
comparatively clearly outlined in the picture we try to see just here.
Nevertheless, it was because of a woman and her clothes, especially a
velvet hood, that was a prime cause of their moving from this scarcely
established home; even as the long shadow of a woman had already fallen
indirectly upon them in their original home and ultimately made for
their departure thence.
Let us seem to be standing on the banks of a canal of Amsterdam. It
is a brilliant winter afternoon and the scene is animated and full
of color, for skaters are flying over the ice and spectators are
watching them or walking about. Here is a group of women, there are
one or two whom we recognize, at least, having seen them in England.
The wife of the pastor of the Separatist Church which is seeking a
home, Mrs. Robinson, and the wife of the leader of his congregation,
Mrs. Brewster, with them a lady much more elaborately dressed than
either of them, the wife of the pastor of the Separatist Church
already established in Amsterdam, Mrs. Johnson. We feel quite sure it
is she, for what is the advantage of having fine clothes if one may
not wear them where many can see, on a gay afternoon in a big city
especially, and has it not been a matter of indifference to her what
comments are made or how nearly her husband’s church is rent asunder?
These new friends are a pleasure to her since they do not criticize
but only admire her appearance. Their attitude, if reflected from the
male members of their party is that the style of woman’s costume is a
detail, and may be according to her station, the one point being that
it should be paid for.
Mrs. Johnson is probably giving her point of view of the matter and an
opinion of her brother-in-law, in the controversy, which is a matter
of record. Meanwhile, the eyes of the mothers see the bright faces of
their children, and their voices come to them from the ice. John and
Jonathan are being called to by a number of girls as they start to race
to a goal.
The girls have some of their new friends with them, fair English roses
like themselves, all for the present blooming together in this country
of tulips--Bridget and Mercy Robinson, Fear and Patience Brewster,
Jacquelin and Dorothy May, the latter, daughters of the elder of Mr.
Johnson’s church. Dorothy and Patience, lighthearted children, never
giving thought to the web Fate is weaving for them. Soon to part,
after a brief acquaintance, but to renew it in a few years, because
Dorothy is a magnet to draw back to Amsterdam the grave young man so
frequently seen with her father and Mr. Brewster, at this time, and
will herself leave her home there to join these friends again. And
Patience is to become the wife of a man of prominence and influence
just as her mother had done. These are future visions indeed, yet these
two girls, as they stand side by side, are the presentment of the women
(though ship and Colony were then undreamed of) causing the special
designation in the title of this story.
Therefore because of the turmoil regarding Mrs. Johnson’s apparel and
other matters affecting the congregation, John Robinson and William
Brewster thought it wiser to remove their people from such ensuing
contentions, notwithstanding it would entail the search for new
employments and cause some more expense.
It was ever the Sword of the Spirit--the spirit of self-sacrifice,
“whatsoever it should cost them,” to attain their cherished object,
democratic religious and civil government, that led them onward, step
by step, to the victory which was to be theirs.
This change of surroundings was accomplished with much less stress and
strain than their former one. Their new companions in Amsterdam were
sorry to have them go; while a welcome from strangers awaited them in
the city of their choice.
UNDER THE LINDENS OF LEYDEN.
[Illustration]
UNDER THE LINDENS OF LEYDEN.
The chimes from the spire of the State House rang out an evening hour.
There seemed no unusual portent in this daily custom to the ear of
workers in the busy city turning homewards at close of day. Yet in that
hour on that calm evening of early summer, history was being made for
that city, and to its honored name was added an interest for thousands
of a future day by the seemingly unimportant event then taking place.
A large canal boat, one of the many that plied between Amsterdam and
Leyden, was nearing its mooring at the close of the day’s trip and a
number of persons were on the quay apparently awaiting its arrival. The
boat was heavily ladened with freight and passengers, the household
belongings and persons of a number of families. If some of the members
looked a trifle anxious, all seemed happy and still interested in
all to be viewed at the end of a pleasant journey that had been full
of new sights for the majority. A pleasanter voyage than many had
experienced within the year, and with much uncertainty and strangeness
eliminated from this landing at Leyden which had harassed their arrival
at Amsterdam; for these are the pilgrims from England, to whom the
authorities of this city had recently given permission for residence,
in reply to a petition sent in their behalf from Amsterdam, by their
pastor, John Robinson.
The English were already well known in Leyden and some of this party
had been there to rent houses and survey the prospect. More than
casual glances were given these new arrivals, for, though evidently
poor people and certainly, as yet, unknown, their appearance was
distinguished even in their plain clothes of English fashion, different
to the gay apparel of the natives.
The accounts of this beginning of their sojourn in a new locality are
somewhat meagre, nevertheless they furnish ground for speculation
and conclusions not unjustified. Our interest follows the women we
already know and others whom we are soon to know, as they once more
endeavor to solve the problems of home-keeping with slender resources,
their characteristics of patience and courage again to the test. An
admonition surely given by their beloved pastor must have dwelt in
their thoughts to “stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving
together ... and in nothing terrified.”
The advantages of living in a prosperous, progressive and highly
civilized city were not long in being realized by these women. Though,
at first, their homes were in the poorer part of the city, their
industry and energy supplementing that of the men, who soon found
plenty of employment in the trades of the city, particularly the cloth
and silk weaving, enabled them to live fairly comfortably. The markets
of fish and vegetables saw them as daily customers, and even the
flower market found them as occasional visitors to delight the children
as well as themselves. The public schools gave to many of the children
more of an education than their mothers had had; this opportunity for
free knowledge, as well as the hospitals, homes for the aged, orphan
asylums, were some of the marvels of this new life. Books and pictures
were so moderate in price as to be available for all.
The contrasts between the conditions which tended towards the benefit
and advancement of the plain people in their present home and those
which were only for the benefit of the wealthy and aristocratic class
in their old home were as easily seen by his companions now as they had
been by William Brewster years before.
The objects above all the planning for the routine of practical life
were that they might have food and comfort, peace and quiet to worship
God.
They were not without news of England, for their community was
constantly increased by new arrivals, who, hearing of the success of
their venture, came to try the experiment themselves; some remaining as
true friends and burden sharers, others returning.
Scarcely three years passed before the women had the joy of moving
into attractive newly built cottages on a piece of ground in a very
desirable location for their needs, bought by several of the men
for all in common. All were now in good circumstances retained by
continual labor, however. The nearness of the famous University was a
satisfaction to the many intellectual men of the party, both to enter
as students or to read in its library.
That the content of the men was reflected by the women is without
doubt, for if the men in a family are fairly happy it is easy for
the women to be so, and, on their own account they had reason to be
lighthearted. Their cosy little houses were built at the sides of the
piece of property, the center becoming a small park or community garden
with sanded walks, flower bordered. The pastor’s house, at one end,
was the largest and finest, for in it the Sunday services and three
teaching services or lectures were held, as they had been held in the
old manor house in Scrooby.
Besides their two indefatigable and honored leaders, the pastor and
William Brewster, now an elder in their Church, the community was
fortunate in having among them the young doctor, a widower, whose home
was kept by his sister, Anna. Her self-reliant, decisive character must
have been highly sympathetic and congenial to her brother. The life of
Anna Fuller is one of those most discernable to us in that coterie of
women, after the lapse of the long years. Tactful and clever she was,
and a favorite with all. Between her and Mary Brewster there grew a
warm attachment.
A friend to them both and to many others, was Katherine Carver (the
wife of John Carver, a prominent and valued man of their company) whose
lovely character endeared her to them, but whose chief interest in
life was her husband and what concerned him.
Ann Tilly and the wife of James Chilton added to the group of these
young matrons who enjoyed their quiet but not altogether uneventful
lives in mutual sympathy and esteem. We must admire the smoothness
with which they managed their affairs, taking into consideration the
varying temperaments among them; tact and unselfishness, wisdom and
charitableness must indeed have been taught them by “the grave Mistress
Experience,” and not only among themselves was it observable, but also
with their new, interested and friendly neighbors, the women of that
Dutch city, through whom they became acquainted with its manners and
customs and to feel quite familiar with them. Their children and the
Dutch children soon became friends and through them the mothers of
each began their knowledge of one another, to their mutual advantage.
We know the pride of the native women in their city and how ready and
willing they were to show its sights and relate its history to these
interested strangers.
Thus we can easily fancy a party coming along Belfry Lane and through
other streets on their way to visit the Burg, a promised treat to
the children and desired by their elders. Ann Tilly is taking the
children of her household--two little cousins and a niece--having none
of her own, whom she has mothered. Mistress Chilton has with her, her
daughter; Mary Brewster and her two daughters walk with Katherine
Carver; Anna Fuller and the Carpenter girls--one soon to be her
sister-in-law--and one or two boys, a lively party, all accompanied by
some Dutch friends as guides.
Leyden was at that time full of reminders of the war with Spain, its
part of it having been the great siege. Up on the Burg the country for
miles around lies before them, and as they look, the story is told and
they try to picture just where and how the battle was fought. Doubtless
some old soldier was on the Burg, that bright afternoon, living for
himself again that time of suffering and valor, and glad to recount
many of the details and describe where had been a particular Spanish
redoubt, or just where such a regiment had been stationed, or the
location of a General’s headquarters.
We of days far from theirs are yet joined to their experiences of that
afternoon of our fancy if we have chanced on a similar recital from
one who had participated in another war with Spain in a very different
country and setting, a war in which the descendants of some of these
women had a part. From the wall of an old Spanish castle near Manila,
a party of women, one of them the present writer, looked over the
surrounding plain on an afternoon not many years ago, while the then
American owner, their host, related just such details and anecdotes
of the Philippine incident in the war with Spain, already some years
in the past; there was a battery of the United States regulars; the
insurgents came in here; a far glimpse of the sunlit harbor showed
where Dewey’s ships lay; and so on. By such a touch does a string on
the harp of life sing on through the centuries.
Coming home, they would visit the City Hall, where were then kept
many mementos and relics of victory upon which they could look with
wondering earnestness, feeling as we when today viewing objects closely
connected with the World War, so recently in our thoughts.
* * * * *
The blossoms of the lindens fell over the grey wall enclosing the old
cloister wherein the veiled nuns had walked, fell over into another
garden and around other women of whom the cloistered nuns had never
heard, and to whom they were but a name; lives in deepest contrast,
lived in neighboring environment yet divided by a grey stone wall and
many years.
At a well by the old wall several young women have gathered, some to
get water for their household use, others to meet them there for a
gossip--for even in the little colony of English Separatists living so
quietly on their own ground, itself almost a cloister, in the gay city
of Leyden there was, of course, gossip in its friendly and sociable
meaning. But chat between the women only is interrupted, and apparently
to their amusement, by small boys and girls all eagerness at a tale
one of their number is telling of an exciting event in their school
life that day; no less than the story of how the Prince’s ball fell
into the canal and he took the boat hook belonging to an old woman who
lived near, never thinking she would object, and fished the ball safely
out. A tale with an apparently happy ending, but not so, the old woman
mistaking Prince Frederick for just an everyday boy scolded him well,
and when some one called out that it was the Prince who had borrowed
her boat hook, she was so overcome and frightened that she ran in her
house and they could not coax her out, for she said they would take her
to prison.
Smiles fade as a shadow of remembrance crosses the minds of some of
the listeners at prison experiences they have known, and perhaps a
thought of contrast that here, in this democratic land, their children
have as playmate a prince of the blood, while in their own country
they might scarcely ever have seen one. A few of the young men have
wandered towards the well, since evening is advancing and their day’s
employments are over; here are Edward Southworth, William Bradford,
Robert Cushman, William White,--and, severally, Alice Carpenter, Mary
Singleton and Anna Fuller may no longer be monopolized by the children,
while Patience Brewster is glad to hear of her friend in Amsterdam,
Dorothy May, from William Bradford, who visits Elder May rather
frequently.
In fact, news from Amsterdam was quite regularly brought by visitors
as well as by those of their own company returning, since seeds of
romance sown in the early days of their sojourn were bearing fruit, and
engagements were so frequent that one was scarcely talked of before
another came up for consideration.
Thus it was not surprising to see Samuel Fuller leaning across the
half door of the Carpenter’s cottage, while Agnes, presumably waiting
for Alice to return from the well, on the other side of the door,
smiled at him. Not unlikely that Edward Southworth and the doctor will
both be asked to supper, for the Carpenter household, with five gay,
pretty girls in it was not a dull one. One of the households soonest to
break away, however, from the present surroundings; after three of his
daughters married, Alexander Carpenter moved the rest of his family to
his old home in England. Anna Fuller noticing her brother’s absorption
and knowing from rather frequent experience that he may forget about
the supper she will provide for him, decides on spending the evening
away from home, herself. To her neighbor and special friend, Mary
Allerton, she will be a gladly welcomed guest--she who, a year ago was
Mary Norris, and for whom Anna had been a witness at her marriage to
Isaac Allerton. Sarah, Isaac’s sister, who lived with them, was good
company also, and if Degory Priest should happen by, as was more than
likely, to walk with Sarah to the weekly lecture at Pastor Robinson’s
and if William White should come too, still less unlikely, she would
tell him that--“yes she would marry him, when Samuel married Agnes
Carpenter and was off her hands and mind.”
In this group of pilgrims there were many young men and girls,
therefore many were the love tales told under the lindens and marriages
frequent during their sojourn.
The Botanical Gardens at Leyden, one of the city’s proud possessions,
must have held the usual charm for walks of sweethearts and wives and
the men of their choice on a Sunday afternoon that seems to be evident
everywhere there are Gardens, in any era and place, from Edinburgh to
Hong Kong.
The annual Kermiss also witnessed many visitors from among these
strangers, and the other holidays and sports came in time to be almost
as familiar and enjoyable as though known in their own country.
Good health and fairly comfortable living made comparatively light
hearts, among the younger set especially.
We are glad to picture these years of their life in Leyden when their
industry and thrift brought them to pleasant days of living, and the
cheerfulness and peace of their little community attracted visitors and
favorable comments. These days were lighted by hope, a hope that they
might through some fortunate possibility be able to return to their
beloved England and live in the unmolested peace and independence there
which they had found here.
Prosperity again found Mary Brewster, for her husband becoming a much
respected teacher of languages in the University, was soon able to win
a comfortable and adequate living for his family, and, as always, the
Brewsters were ever ready with sympathy and help to those less well
off than they; indeed one of the chief supports in this thoroughly
religious body of people was their convention of mutual help and
friendliness.
Mary, as well as her husband, was always available as the confidant of
their neighbors, therefore a frequent witness for the young couples who
went to the State House, according to the custom of the country, to
declare their intentions of marriage, and we feel sure the interest did
not stop there, and that she and her daughters helped with the simple
festivities connected with these marriages. A member of the University
was exempt from tax on homemade wines and brew, and as both were common
beverages at that time, and made in all households, her wine and
cooking receipts must have been frequently used.