shipboard while the vessels were being made ready for departure. The
allotments to the respective ships, the designation of quarters in
the ships, were necessarily made chiefly with regard to the needs and
comfort of the women and children. The number of each was increased by
the wife and family of Stephen Hopkins and of John Billington, also
by four children named More. These children, three boys and a girl,
were protegees of Mr. Weston, one of the merchants interested, and,
having no apparent connection with any one of the company; just what
reason he had for sending them on this voyage seems likely to remain
an unanswered question. The loving natures of Mary Brewster, Katherine
Carver and Elizabeth Winslow accepted them as their special charges,
and Jasper was thereafter considered with the numerous and varied
family of the Carvers, Ellen, with the Winslows, while Richard and
his other brother, increased the Brewster’s number of boys. For only
a short time were these children to know these new and kind friends.
Another unexpected addition to their numbers was in the person of
the young man of Southampton, John Alden by name, who joined their
company, as cooper, for the sake of the voyage and adventure--but who
remained as one of them for the sake of the love and admiration he
gained for some in particular. Their business affairs being concluded,
the _Speedwell_ and _Mayflower_ sailed from the harbor, but soon the
_Speedwell_ was found in a dangerous condition from leaks,--though she
had been thoroughly overhauled after her trip from Holland. It was
decided to put into the nearby port of Dartmouth, where a stay was
made of ten days, at much cost to the pilgrims both in time and money.
However, after this set-back, the ships sailed again and all had hopes
of comfortable progress. Land’s End was behind them about a hundred
leagues on the 23rd of August, when the Captain of the _Speedwell_
again proclaimed that disaster to his ship was imminent. There was
nothing else to do but turn both ships back to the nearest port.
Plymouth welcomed them and kind-hearted people there tried to comfort
and cheer the disappointed passengers. For some, these several returns
to England began to affect their spirits as a portent or warning,
but to others they but served to make stronger the desire to carry
out their plans, in spite of discouragement, in spite of the charm
of England’s summer days beside the sea, in spite of the bright and
friendly town through whose massive gateways they had to pass to visit
the busy streets and get their last glimpses of gay shops--sights which
they realized they would never again see when they had emigrated to the
new and lonely land. This acid test lasted fourteen days.
About this time, in their house in Dukes’s place, Edward and Alice
Southworth received a letter written by Robert Cushman, while at
Dartmouth, relating the unpleasant events that had transpired. Their
sympathies were doubtless awakened, but even more their surprise, when,
not long after, Robert and Mary Cushman and their son, returned to
London; they and a number of others both from choice and necessity had
left the company at Plymouth when it was finally decided to abandon the
thought of the _Speedwell_ making the voyage and that the _Mayflower_
would go on alone.
Such of the passengers who had come from Leyden and who were to
continue their voyage, were transferred with their effects to the
other ship, and in this unexpected turn of their affairs, all had
to make themselves as comfortable as possible. Disappointment and
the discouraging delay could not have lent much enthusiasm to the
re-arranging of themselves and their family belongings, especially
in such crowded quarters as now became necessary. Finally, all being
adjusted, the _Speedwell_ sailed for London and the _Mayflower_ for her
long voyage.
Compactness could never have had a more effective demonstration, when
one considers what actually was required by these colonists in the way
of equipment, the number of people and the size of the ship. Though the
Leyden contingent had brought little more than personal belongings,
and as few as possible, the _Speedwell_ had little spare space, while
on board the _Mayflower_ when she sailed from London were not only the
passengers and their accessories, but supplies for the enterprise as a
whole--other necessaries being added at Southampton--also the regular
ship’s supplies for the vessel and crew for a long voyage and return.
Let us glance at a list of articles which we know were part of the
load: building materials for houses and boats, clothing materials,
beds and bedding, rugs, spinning-wheels, chairs, chests, cradles,
cooking utensils, carpentering tools, books, weapons, gunpowder and
shot, cannon, garden and farm implements, seeds and plants, medicines,
trinkets for trading with the Indians, goats, chickens, pigs, pigeons,
dogs, beer and butter, food for the animals, dried and salted foods
for the people. And some of these things we may see this day, as they
have been seen on any day of these three hundred years since they were
shipped on the _Mayflower_.
We have heard careless or would-be witty remarks as to the countless
china tea pots, which came in the _Mayflower_ and are in every state
in the Union, or household furnishings which would supply largely
populated cities by the number claimed as authentic. Such amusing
remarks cause a smile indeed, not however, from the cause the sarcastic
authors assume, but from the ignorance or exaggeration willingly or
unconsciously evinced. The known freight the _Mayflower_ carried was
a ship load and no more--and some of it remains to the present hour.
China tea pots, or even one, never was part of her invoice; tea and
coffee were not then known as beverages to these people, nor in their
world; what a solace and comfort therefore was missing for the women
of the voyage--for at sea, how seemingly indispensable are these
important factors of present day life.
The women of the _Mayflower_--let us look at them now, since all who
ever may be called by that name are together on the ship, and fair days
and moonlight nights give possible encouragement to them as the voyage
opens. We see the forms of those we have known in England and Leyden,
heretofore, some more familiar to us than others, but we are interested
in all, however slight our acquaintance: and their new companions,
lately from London, claim our attention likewise. Among these latter we
note Mrs. Stephen Hopkins as an addition of great advantage; her vigor
of mind and body, her decidedly wholesome and attractive personality
wins regard from all. Her own little daughter, Damaris, and her
step-daughter, Constantia, added one each to the quota of childhood and
girlhood on board. Against the name of Elizabeth Hopkins, as against
the names of two others of the matrons of this passenger list, (Mary
Brewster and Susanna White) destiny set a shining mark.
Mrs. John Carver has her maid and her young ward, Desire Minter, also
the frequent company of her dear friends, Mrs. Myles Standish and Mrs.
Edward Winslow. It needed not for John Carver to be one of the leading
men of this company, nor for him and his wife to have more of worldly
goods than many, for Katherine Carver to have the love and admiration
of all who knew her.
Quite a stranger to all is Mrs. Christopher Martin, and scarcely known
during her brief stay among them; she and her husband were among the
passengers from London.
Two pairs of mothers and daughters,--Mrs. Chilton and Mary, Mrs.
Mullins and Priscilla--engage our attention, as Cupid’s entanglements
are even in this serious adventure, since Mary has lost an admirer and
Priscilla gained one. There was not room for both of Edward Winslow’s
brothers on the larger ship, when the _Speedwell_ failed their hopes,
so John had to seek the new world and his winsome Mary, at a later day.
John Alden, the young cooper, engaged for the voyage at Southampton,
has already met his fate in acquaintance with the buoyant Priscilla.
The names of these two sweet maids of the _Mayflower_, (soon to become
sorrow-touched women of the new colony) ripple as music through poetry
and romance, or staid fact and history to our imagination.
Here is a group whom we know far less well; Mrs. Thomas Tinker, Mrs.
John Rigdale, Mrs. Francis Eaton, yet we feel sure their qualities of
mind and heart must be the equal of many of their companions.
Here are the sisters-in-law, wives of John and Edward Tilly, each with
a young girl to mother--not her own--for Humility Cooper is cousin to
Ann Tilly, and Elizabeth is a step-child to John Tilly’s wife.
Mrs. Edward Fuller, sister-in-law of the doctor and Anna White, is
one of those sailing for another haven than some of the others, though
knowing it not.
From London has come Mrs. John Billington, so different in style and
manner from her women companions as to be quite noticeable, yet not
lacking in desirable qualities to say the least; and little Ellen More,
now in Mrs. Winslow’s care.
Mrs. William Bradford--standing in the shadow of tragedy--and Mrs.
Isaac Allerton with her two little girls, Remember and Mary, complete
the count. Mary Allerton’s namesake daughter stands nearest to us, of
all that company, between that day and this.
“How slow yon tiny vessel plows the main!
Amid the heavy billows now she seems
A toiling atom--then from wave to wave
Leaps madly, by the tempest lashed,--or reels,
Half wrecked, through gulfs profound.
Moons wax and wane,
But still that lonely traveller treads the deep.”
What words can better picture the _Mayflower_ at sea than these of
Mrs. Sigourney? The monotony, the discomfort, the terrors day after
day. Since the waning of the September moon, under which the voyage
began, the weather had become cold and stormy; the sea dangerous--whose
roughness affected many and made the labors and duties of those able to
withstand it, increase.
The ship’s cook was of slight service to the passengers, since his
work was for the benefit of the officers and crew only, therefore the
preparing of their meals fell to the different individuals whose health
and abilities so enabled them. With slight cooking facilities, it was
necessary to rely chiefly upon such fare as did not require to be
prepared by fire; gin and brandy were relied upon for warmth, and beer
a tonic.
To this tossing ship, on one of these stormy days, there comes a
stranger, promptly and appropriately called Oceanus, and the Hopkins
family becomes one of especial interest, with its new baby for all the
women and children to delight in.
Another day’s excitement is provided by one of the young men, who
chafing under the restraint of staying below decks, imposed by the
storm, ventures above and is no sooner out than over the side of the
ship, in the grip of a wave. His presence of mind to grasp a rope,
which trailed from the rigging in the water and his grit in holding on,
making his rescue possible by the sailors, make a topic of conversation
with sufficient thrill. One wonders if John Howland became invested
with a new interest for Elizabeth Tilly from that day, or the few
subsequent ones, when the great, hearty fellow was somewhat the worse
for his adventure.
The shock of death enters when a particularly rough sailor, who had
terrorized the women and children and annoyed the men by his language
and manners, is stricken suddenly, buried at sea, and so one of their
trials is removed.
The storm increases and all doubt not that their end is approaching,
since the ship is giving way, but this crisis passes, by the energies
of the captain and crew and the aid of an iron screw, or jack, which
was brought by a passenger from Leyden. That screw was the instrument
which saved the _Mayflower_, and we know not the owner--whose name
seems of more interest to us than it did to them to whom the screw was
the thing.
Another day brings a blow to Doctor Fuller and to all, since one of
their own company is summoned by death, the young assistant to the
doctor, William Button. Many begin to show the effects of the dreary
weeks on the ship and look worn, weary and ill.
At last, at last, in a November dawn, land is in sight! A day spent in
running southward looking for a favorable harbor, but none appearing,
they turn about and return to the point of land first seen, and by
nightfall are safely riding at anchor.
With the episode immediately following, the women had no actual
connection, yet to some we know it was of interest, as their husbands
signed the document drawn up in the cabin, and because of it Katherine
Carver was made the “first lady” of the little group of friends, since
her husband was then duly elected governor of this colonial company.
More love, more respect, they could not give her as their governor’s
wife than they had always given her as just one of themselves--tested
and trained as all had been together in the years of friendship amid
all the shades of mutual experience.
The next day new life and animation was evident among all on board
the _Mayflower_. Hope flung aside the grey veils that had almost
enveloped her for many weeks and stood in the radiant garments of
expectancy--they would not recognize the vagueness, the emptiness of
her background. They had been brought across the sea in safety--they
were about to disembark on the solid ground of their new country.
Ambition stirred the weakest to prove the wisdom of their choice.
In the cabin of the _Mayflower_, next day, their Elder led them in
prayer and hymns of thankfulness. Around were those who had listened
to him in the old hall at Scrooby Manor, and others who, since then,
had made his way their way through life. We may easily picture, again,
Mary, his devoted wife, seated in the old chair (which, at least, we
may see actually), her gentle, anxious face silhouetted against the
grim old cabin walls of the _Mayflower_, as lovely to her friends who
looked at her that day, as when its fairness had as a background her
old home in the stately manor in England. All who were able were at
this service, on what, for them, was Expectation Sunday, (though some
were too weak and ill to leave their berths), and afterwards, walked on
the decks looking at the new, mysterious land before them--recognizing
various familiar trees, growing almost to the water’s edge, and
accepting the attention of the surprised but welcoming sea-gulls.
The little pool, across a stretch of nearby beach, partly surrounded
by juniper trees, attracted the eyes of the women with delight at
prospect, if tomorrow was fair, for a grand and general wash day, with
plenty of water, instead of the restricted supply that had had to
suffice them for more than a hundred days’ effort at cleanliness.
The cold, foggy morning of the 23rd of November witnessed much energy
among the company on the ship, riding at anchor in its lonely harbor.
Small boats brought many of the women ashore with kettles and big
bundles,--the first time that they set foot on the soil of their new
country--and Monday wash day was established. The men who were not
employed repairing the small boat, or shallop, which had been stored
in the hold of the _Mayflower_, and which they wished to use for
exploration as soon as possible, cut the fragrant cedars or junipers
about the pool, made cheerful, pungent fires, and swung the kettles for
the boiling water. Some, no doubt, looked on it as quite a picnic, with
lunch served by the fire, and the whole thing a change from the life of
the past weeks.
The dusk saw the footprints of many English women marking for the
first time that sea-washed shore, and the ashes of the first fires
of civilized life, (with women as an important half of that life),
mingling with the sands. The women went “home” to the ship, with
contentment in their minds, but wet, cold and tired. Small wonder that
colds became evident next day--with little vitality left to resist
them. Misery had plenty of company.
Another day and the anxious wives whose husbands made up the first
exploring party watched them row away in the ship’s long boat, land and
march along the shore, out of sight, under the watchful lead of Captain
Myles Standish.
Through the two days and nights of their absence, knowing not what
dangers or disasters might befall them, we can never doubt that the
secret prayers of Rose Standish unceasingly appealed for the safe
return of her husband and the husbands of the other women, her dear
friends, for whom he was responsible. And not her’s only we know were
answered, when, on the third morning, the welcome sound of guns from
shore, signaling the long boat, relieved the tension on the ship.
What rejoicing, interest and even amusement was the result of their
safe arrival, with curious trophies of their first land journey and
descriptions of what they had seen and done.
After a few days, their own shallop being repaired, another and larger
party went away for discovery. Another safe return and tales of
interest followed this. And news of importance awaited them, also--for
they found the White family rejoicing in the arrival of a son and
brother; Dr. Fuller and Mr. and Mrs. Edward Fuller in a new nephew, and
Samuel in a cousin, in the little Pilgrim. Probably Oceanus Hopkins
looked at his future playmate with interest, not unmixed with surprise
that he was no longer the new baby of the _Mayflower_.
Before the next attempt to find the place most desirable for their
permanent location, another event, far less cheerful, drew attention
to the Whites. A young man in their employ, Edward Thompson, died, and
thus became the first of the _Mayflower_ passengers to be buried in
American soil.
The following day, one of the Billington boys in search of diversion,
finding a loaded gun in the cabin and a barrel of gunpowder, promptly
shot it off then and there; his pleasure was short-lived, but those
who were ill or much startled by the noise, probably did not care what
happened to him. The jeopardy in which he placed the ship and every
soul on board was doubtless beyond his comprehension. The restlessness
of the small boys in those cramped quarters was one of the trials the
mothers had to bear. Our sympathy is for both.
On the 16th of December, reckoning by the calendar as we know it,
the third and, as it proved to be, the final and successful attempt
at finding the place for their settlement was made. But while much
happened to the exploring party, in the seven days of its absence,
and while the thoughts of those left on the ship followed them, at
all times, hearts were heaviest there, and gloom as great as that
surrounding the storm-tossed shallop settled on the _Mayflower_. The
moments were tense to the family of James Chilton, whose illness daily
became more acute, and hope of his recovery faded in the hearts of his
loving wife and daughter. Into the loving sympathy of their friends and
their own deep sorrow, there entered a shock and excitement of stunning
effect, when it was discovered that Dorothy Bradford was missing.
Someone had seen her on deck--we see her, too--standing, in the sunset,
wrapped in her long cape, looking over the water, alone.
We recall her as, years past, we saw her on another winter afternoon,
in Amsterdam, standing with Patience Brewster on the banks of the
canal, gay with skaters--the elder’s daughter, then, now the wife of
one of the principal men of this company.
One who kept a record of those days wrote: “At anchor in Cape Cod
harbor. This day Mistress Dorothy Bradford, wife of Master Bradford,
who is away with the exploring party, to the westward, fell overboard
and was drowned.” A woman of the _Mayflower_ whose experience of the
New World was destined to be brief--and never of Plymouth Colony--the
one appointed to lead the way into a New Country for many of the
women who sorrowed that night for her sudden going. That no further
comment or record was made of this tragedy seems remarkable. Out of the
silence conjectures arise, as will in such conditions, without form or
foundation in truth as far as can ever be known.
Mr. Chilton died the next day--the first head of a family to be taken.
The illness which was gradually affecting many of the company, grew out
of the colds and run down condition they had reached. It seems like
grip or influenza of our modern knowledge, with other complications;
its fatality was appalling. Mary Chilton and her mother had need
of the uplifting sympathy and companionship of such friends as Mary
Brewster and Susanna White in the dark hours of their sorrow. Theirs
was the first test of faith. The little family of three had expected to
face the new life together, with whatsoever pleasure or privation it
might bring, and to have the one taken for whom and with whom the other
two had willingly ventured, strong in their love and determination to
bear their part in the work which needed women’s hands to secure even a
semblance of home, was crushing indeed. Yet these women, already proven
brave, would now be braver still and rejoice in the safe return in the
shallop of the other husbands and fathers who brought the good news of
a satisfactory place to establish their settlement.
The enthusiasm of these men at the happy ending of their uncomfortable
and dangerous journey was soon lessened by knowledge of the grievous
and unexpected events which had happened while they were away.
We think it was Elder Brewster who gave the sad explanation to William
Bradford as to why Dorothy was not with the cluster of women and girls
who crowded so eagerly at the ship’s rail to catch first glimpse of
their men as the discoverers returned. These men had lately seen and
touched a rock, for them a stepping-stone, that day of exploration, to
solid ground--they saw it not as the gateway of a mighty nation; a rock
which had wandered to that place from far away; a traveller, a pilgrim
who had waited long to welcome these pilgrims. They returned now to
the rock of their community, William Brewster, keystone of the arch of
their high aspirations, molder and guardian of the firm principles that
other rock so fitly typified.
One more storm and struggle for the _Mayflower_ on weighing anchor
again, one more disappointing return to a harbor which she desired to
leave, but after all a calm day’s sail across the bay and rest in that
quiet harbor guarded by the lonely rock. Her work nobly performed, her
name immortal, she had reached the goal.
THE FIRST STREET.
[Illustration]
THE FIRST STREET.
The first street of Plymouth, the first street of New England, was
in the making. From the decks of the _Mayflower_ the women looked
longingly toward the land, whither the men went daily, hearing the
sounds of hammering and sawing which came across the harbor, for as yet
none of them had been permitted to go ashore in these new surroundings.
The hill which arose at the water’s edge, behind the rock, was
snow-crowned; around and beside it a path had been cut and worn by the
men as they went to the work of making houses for their families.
By the maps and charts of the company, it was found that this
situation, which they had all approved for their permanent residence,
was the place visited and named by an earlier explorer of whom they
had heard, and some had seen, Captain John Smith. The appellation he
gave to it suited them well--Plymouth; if they had had the selection
of a name as well as the site for their New World home, it could not
have been better chosen, in view of the fact that Plymouth was the last
place their feet had trod and their eyes seen in their Old World home,
and the inhabitants of that town had been kind to them.
Nevertheless it was of Leyden that they thought when building. The
larger hill at the end of the street, which they at first saw in the
mind’s eye, even as we do now, reminded them of the eminence crowned
by the fort at Leyden, and upon it they would build their fort and it
would be a constant reminder of the Burg.