its wild fruits and berries of many varieties, its fish and game, also
roses to gladden their eyes, fragrant and colorful, and, owing to the
friendliness and good understanding with the Indians, the colonists
might walk in the woods round about their homes as in the highways
of England. The two Indians called Squanto and Hobomok, who attached
themselves permanently to the colony, showed them many things of
advantage in the way of agriculture and home crafts which the women
were as glad to learn as the men.
About six weeks after their marriage, Susanna Winslow bade her husband
the first of the many farewells she would experience in the coming
days, because of his frequent journeys in the cause of the colony. He
was now to seek the great Indian chief, Massasoit, with whom the treaty
had been made, a few months before, and the governor had selected him
and Stephen Hopkins for this necessary visit. The walk through the
woods was long and tiresome and consumed more than a week, but the
object of their journey was accomplished. Susanna Winslow and Elizabeth
Hopkins, awaiting in some natural anxiety at home for their return, or
news of them, must have been somewhat startled the day the governor
sent them the message he had just received by an Indian runner, that
their husbands were nearly starving and struggling homeward, exhausted.
These two wives hastily despatched food by the Indian, to meet them at
a certain place, and had an abundant supper in readiness on the rainy
evening of their return.
Soon after this, the upsetting occurrence of a lost child came upon
them, and Eleanor Billington had the sympathy of the mothers because
one of her boys had been too venturesome in the woods and strayed
away. He was found by the Indians miles from Plymouth and word being
brought of this, the governor sent a boat to the place of the Indian
encampment which brought the boy back, no worse for his adventure, so
this excitement passed. Expeditions among the Indians became necessary,
both of forceful and peaceful intent, which made recurring anxiety for
the women, until the men had safely returned.
At the close of the summer, once again sorrow filled their hearts, as
one more of their number went from the friends who loved her. It was
the only happiness left for Katherine Carver to follow her husband out
of this world, which no longer contained anything of interest to her
and the future no hope strong enough to relieve her broken heart. So,
lovely and lamented, she was laid to rest on the hill by the shore,
where so many others of their brave and fair were sleeping. This
left but two of the married women who had left Leyden together: Mary
Brewster and Susanna Winslow. But the number of the girls remained
complete.
* * * * *
The first anniversary of their sailing from old Plymouth, came and
went. The survivors of that day’s company on the ship must have
observed it with many thoughts. These September days were busy ones,
indeed, as preparations to meet the coming winter began. Their Spring
planting had been successful in all except peas, and their harvest
of corn was abundant. The wild grapes were made into wine, the corn
pounded into meal, each household a veritable hive of workers; while
the wear and tear on their clothes must be repaired and new garments
made, or purchased when strictly necessary, from the supply stored in
the Common House.
But an interval occurred in this routine and it may be introduced to us
by a picture of the living-room in the Brewster house, by candle light,
which contains all the women of the colony in earnest discussion.
This conclave is caused by the recent suggestion of the governor that
in view of the fact of their successful harvest, and renewed health,
a period of recreation should be planned and enjoyed by all; games,
feasting, mirth and frolic, a combination of festivities of both
England and Holland with which they were familiar, and not only were
preparations to be for themselves but for guests--Chief Massasoit and
many of his warriors were to be invited, with no doubt at all of their
acceptance. Many of the men had been hunting that day to provide the
game, and the results were enough to last a week. It was not questions
of what to provide, but how much of everything would be needed, and
which of them would prepare and roast the wild turkeys, who boil the
fish, who make sauces and side dishes or cook vegetables, who bake,
who make the salads, and all the other necessary plans for cooks who
are hostesses, and hostesses who are cooks. The problem has a familiar
appearance to many of us in our own day. Favorite receipts were
compared, and whoever excelled in a certain thing was to have charge of
that supply. All were good cooks so it was a case of friendly emulation
and rivalry in this novel experience, with which each housekeeper
retired that night, after they had talked and planned to their
satisfaction. More than a hundred to be provided for over a three day
period, and eleven women and young girls to see it through; even the
littlest girls, Remember and Mary Allerton and Damaris Hopkins had to
help, and of course the men did their share in keeping the great fires
burning and dressing the game, and the boys in carrying water from the
brook. Every iron kettle, every long and short legged pot and pan,
every wooden bowl and leathern bottle, every pewter dish, with hooks,
spits and trivets were in use; wooden cups or gourds to drink from, and
knives and napkins. The only forks were the long-handled iron ones for
cooking purposes, their use for the table was not known, their service
was supplied by napkins and spoons.
The Indians arrived and encamped around the street, thoughtfully
bringing a large supply of venison to add to the bill of fare. The
cooks and waitresses in whitest of linen caps, kerchiefs and aprons,
with short woolen skirts and buckled shoes, had many steps to take to
serve the banqueters seated at the great tables erected in front of
the houses; and when the men were having their contests of shooting
or games, they cleared away or looked on at the entertainment as they
could. They and the children, in sampling the products of their cooking
or taking a mouthful, now and then, were kept from being hungry in the
midst of plenty by being too busy to eat.
The long shadows of the third day saw the end of the event. And was
the first American “block party” a success? We may say that it was.
And were the women tired? We will agree to that also. But the men
were pleased, the children happy, and one recovers quickly from the
fatigue of gratifying achievement. Thus was their public thanksgiving
celebrated, by order of the governor.
On a November day some weeks later, household tasks were going as
usual; many of the men were gathering the last of the harvest, others
getting in the winter’s supply of wood. We may see Mistress Brewster
in her kitchen distilling herbs and witch-hazel for domestic medicines,
as was the custom of each housewife, that Dr. Fuller’s supply might not
be too freely drained. She has the help and company of Mary Chilton
this afternoon--both unconscious of any special interest that the day
may bring to them especially, before its close, yet the unexpected
was as often happening then as now. Priscilla and Elizabeth had taken
Desire Minter on a search for more sassafras, hoping to entertain and
amuse the listless girl, who, since Mrs. Carver’s death, seemed to grow
each day more unhappy. The two Marys are talking of the return voyage
of the _Mayflower_--how long it might have been or how short--and if
their friends in England and Holland had received the many letters
and messages taken back by the Captain. Suddenly they are startled
by the sound of the gun from the fort! Another shot! They are in the
street now and likewise every woman and child--it is the signal for
assembly--and the men may be seen hurrying from the woods and fields.
The Governor accompanied by the Captain and an Indian runner are
rapidly descending the hill from the fort, both looking especially
determined. The news is soon in possession of all. A ship has entered
Cape Cod harbor--seen by the Indians and word brought at once to
Plymouth! Surprise and suspense were but some of the feelings this news
aroused. They had been seven months without sight or sound of the world
beyond their little settlement and its woodland neighbors. It would
have to be Spring before a friendly ship could be expected to find them
(for newcomers could not live in comfort or be of use till then) and
as England and France were on far from friendly terms, this might be a
ship of the latter nationality, seeking them with hostile intent. But
preparedness was ever their daily thought and ability to cope with any
emergency. Thus the Captain’s little army of defense, twenty men, was
soon marshalled and ready--none without a gun in hand--to protect their
women, children and homes to the last man.
Mary Brewster sees her husband in the front rank, of course. He can
fight as ardently as pray, if necessary, and while wishing that an
enemy might be converted and enjoy life, if that were impossible, then
no question of who should fire first. The Captain had no weaklings
in his command, even the boys and younger men were heroes with such
leaders. Their eyes sharpened by expectancy and uncertainty, soon
discern the stranger’s sails, even as the lookout from the fort calls
out the fact that it is in view. Intently they wait and watch, when,
behold, before their astonished eyes, the flag of England is flung
out in greeting! Relief and amazement run a race in their minds. The
ship is smaller than the _Speedwell_. The first boat puts out, making
straight for the men drawn up on the seashore. In their incredulity
they can scarce recognize, can scarce believe, what they see: Robert
Cushman grasping the hands of Brewster and Bradford; John Winslow
seizing his brother Gilbert’s shoulders: Jonathan Brewster being
sprung upon by his brothers, from the ranks, and then Thomas Prence
just behind him.
Such confusion and laughter, such embraces and tears of joy as the
women, realizing the situation, come running down the street to meet
the crowd coming from the water’s edge.
And in another boat come two women, friends from Leyden, the widow
Ford and her children and Mistress Basset. The relief of the newcomers
was quite equal to that of the Plymouth people, but for a different
reason. Not finding any signs of habitation in the first harbor of
their search, they feared that all survivors had died or been killed by
Indians, and as in their long voyage of four months they had consumed
about all of their provisions, they feared starvation for themselves.
All were in good health, with good appetites and spirits and as soon
as their apprehension was dispelled, at sight of their friends and
their plentiful supply of food, gaiety reigned. The problem of housing
for these thirty-five newcomers was finally settled by nightfall, each
housekeeper putting up with some crowding to take in several, and the
Common House once more giving shelter. What welcome of friends and
relatives, what interest at news from others, the ensuing hours saw;
what joyful supper parties that evening!
Thus the isolation of Plymouth was broken. The sails of the _Fortune_
had brought them once again the touch of the outside world.
By daylight, another young lady had joined the colony, and Martha Ford
opened her eyes, on the first morning of her life, in Plymouth. Just
why her mother should have come across the ocean at this time is not
clear to us. She was a widow and evidently of some means to be able to
bring all her children with her. We may suppose, without stretching the
bounds of probability, that her husband had been preparing to bring his
family to the new colony, and that, after his sudden death, she carried
out the plans.
The _Fortune_ remained two weeks, and lively weeks to get her well
laden with the first exports of the colony, furs, lumber and sassafras
making a rich invoice. Letters were written--letters of enthusiastic
description; letters of encouragement to join the life of the New
World; letters of advice, and letters replying to those received, for
many words of sympathy had been sent in response to the dreary news
brought back by the _Mayflower_. There was a particular letter from
the governor (one of sympathy, also) to Mistress Alice Southworth, in
London, since Robert Cushman brought the news of her recent widowhood.
Robert Cushman had come especially as emissary from the merchants
who had underwritten the Pilgrims, and to see for himself in what
condition they were, for report at home. He was so pleased with what he
experienced, however, that he planned a permanent stay at a future day,
and left his young son, who had accompanied him, with the governor.
So the _Fortune_ was ready to sail, and by her departure, was to make
one more break in the ranks of the women, since Desire Minter chose
to go back in her, to her friends in England, under charge of Robert
Cushman. Her health and spirits had so failed that it was considered
the best thing for her; thus another blank was made in the life of
Elizabeth Tilly, who had found in Desire a dear friend--and in whose
heart she was never forgotten. Perhaps Desire already forsaw that
her place would soon be taken and knew that she would leave little
Elizabeth in good hands. As the _Fortune_ sailed out of the harbor, we
may see John Howland near Elizabeth with his protective look and ready,
encouraging smile.
This little ship did not receive benefit from her name, for fortune
proved unkind. A French man-of-war, lying near the coast of England,
captured her and took all on board prisoners to a French island, where
for more than a fortnight they were detained. However the ship and
passengers were then released and reached England--but the valuable
cargo and letters were spoils of war. So Alice Southworth never
received the governor’s letter, but the fact of its having been sent
was reported to her by her friend, Robert Cushman. Indeed the various
items of news he brought were of interest to many.
But Desire, if she had only written of her experiences, or caused
them to be written! Her experiences as a woman of the _Mayflower_,
as a woman of Plymouth Colony, her experiences in leaving the latter
for an English home--with her war adventure as an extra detail. What
material she had and of what value for the world to read. She would
have been a rival historian of Bradford and Winslow, for posterity. But
of course such a thought never occurred to her. She was a woman--and a
woman could not be independent in the society of that day, which was
an exclusively masculine society and with a system by which feminine
conduct was judged from a masculine point of view. About two hundred
and fifty years elapsed before any other point of view was deemed
possible. And Desire Minter was far from being the first of her sex to
question. In due time word was brought to Plymouth that she had reached
her friends, and, later on, that her brief, but not uneventful life
was over. Somewhere English roses bloom o’er her grave; an interesting
pilgrimage, if its location were known, as a remembrance of the first
woman of the _Mayflower_ and of Plymouth Colony to return to her early
home.
Meanwhile, before Plymouth knew aught of what had happened to the
_Fortune_, much happened there. While pleasure in the company of the
newcomers lasted, supplies did not, and their bubble of joy was soon
broken. The _Fortune_ brought no food, and thirty-odd extra people,
mostly men, to provide for, was a serious problem. So their second
winter was a hard one to get through, with little to eat--half rations
only--and resultant weakness (though fortunately no sickness) scarce
enabled them to improve their condition. Nevertheless, owing to the
threatening attitude of some of the distant Indians, a protecting wall
of lumber was built around the town. The street ran from the rock to
the battlement on the greater hill, but some houses were erected at a
different angle which indicated another street for the near future--to
be called the Highway--and the square came into view.
In Spring, the women, in addition to household duties, helped plant,
the children also--though for them more of a pleasure than for their
mothers, struggling with the problems of supply and demand in food and
clothes.
On an April day, after the planting, an episode occurred which brings
before us for the first time, a woman not hitherto distinctly in the
picture. The Indian squaws occasionally came to Plymouth and were a
help or a bother, according to their personality, to the women of the
colony. One, however, had such agreeable characteristics that she was
considered a desirable member of the community. Her husband, Hobomok,
was the colony’s trusted interpreter and permanent resident. On this
day, we see the mothers of the smallest children, Susanna Winslow,
Martha Ford and Elizabeth Hopkins, assembled in Mistress Hopkins’ big
kitchen, learning from Hobomok’s wife the craft of moccasin making;
the soft foot-coverings were both comfortable and warm for the babies.
But the lesson is interrupted and Hobomok takes his wife away, saying
that the governor wants her. The surprise of the women is lessened
only by apprehension when they later learn that she had been sent on
a mission which none of them could have performed, nor was a man of
theirs able to cope with its delicacy, not even Hobomok. This peculiar
circumstance was caused by Squanto, their other trusted interpreter and
friend. He had stated that all was not well with their Indian allies
and that Massasoit was treacherously planning with the Narragansetts
to exterminate them. The qualifications of Hobomok’s wife were at once
apparent to the men in consultation over this news, which Hobomok
insistently declared could not be true. She was instructed, therefore,
under guise of a casual visitor, to go to Massasoit’s camp and learn
what she could. Her return was anxiously awaited. She accomplished
her errand in a most satisfactory and creditable manner, and her
information relieved them of alarm.
Another year passed, with a not very succesful harvest; uncertain
Indian affairs, and the arrival of boats bringing letters, even
visitors but no supplies or friends or families--the Merchants and even
Robert Cushman seemed to fail them.
Some of the boats brought men whom they supported for a time from their
scanty supply, who had come out to establish another colony on the
coast and who requited their kindness by ingratitude and scorn for a
settlement having women. Another boat, however, was more acceptable as
proving they had friends in need, though unknown, for by it word was
brought of a massacre of Virginia colonists by the Indians. From this
same kind-hearted ship captain, John Huddleston, Edward Winslow--who
visited him to extend the colony’s thanks for the warning--was able
to procure some provisions, of which they were greatly in need, and
thereby increased their bread allowance to a quarter of a pound a day.
From this warning also they proceeded to build a stronger and larger
fort, one part being planned for a place of worship.
A trading ship coming in, made them pay exorbitantly for their needs
seeing how greatly they lacked them. On this ship, however, was a
gentleman who was returning to England from Virginia. He made the
acquaintance of the Plymouth people while the ship was in the harbor,
and that he was a welcome visitor to the Brewster household is told by
a letter he later sent to Governor Bradford saying how he had enjoyed
Mr. Brewster’s books. A man of like tastes, evidently, and his passing
acquaintance a pleasant incident to them.
The autumn and winter were punctuated by trips taken by the governor
and some of the other men, with Squanto, in search of camps where the
Indians would sell corn, as their own harvest was far from being enough
to keep them until the next. On one of these expeditions, Squanto died.
As planting time approached, in view of the fact that the next harvest
must produce a much greater amount, to avoid the dangers of starvation
which they were then enduring, the governor, in consultation, decided
to divide the land into personal holdings, instead of all lands being
worked for and held by the community. This new plan quickly grew
increased enthusiasm for planting and culture, since emulation and
friendly contests for success began. Mary Chilton and Humility Cooper
were each given an acre, and the attention those acres received was not
less than any other. To work in one’s very own soil was pleasure as
well as profit, discounting the fatigue.
At this time, also, the women had a particularly choice bit of
satisfaction. No less than the total disestablishment and wreck of the
colony which the men had come to plant who had accepted hospitality
from the Plymouth people, when they arrived, and so discourteously
returned it by ridiculing a settlement which contained women. Appeals
for help from them were received, and with usual generosity were
granted, to enable them to keep their lives from starvation and the
Indians, and to leave that country.
Plymouth had but six matrons; and the young woman who had been maid
to Mrs. Carver, and four young girls, Priscilla, Mary, Elizabeth and
Humility, with Remember Allerton and Constance Hopkins fast leaving
childhood in the responsibilities of this difficult life. With so
many single men the widow and the girls could have a half dozen at
command in an instant, while Mary Brewster had four strong right arms
to rely on, her husband and three sons; Susanna Winslow the hands of
her husband, brother and brothers-in-law, Gilbert and John, at need.
Remember and Constance had each a brother to call upon and the other
two married women, husbands and sons. Nevertheless, no one would
care to deny that the twenty-four hours of the day of these loyal and
efficient members of the company were not as heavily laden as those of
the men, nor that their efforts in sustaining the struggling community
were not as valuable in the final results.
“They made the home and kept the hearth fires burning;
They spun and wove and tilled the barren soil;
They met each day’s return with patient trusting
And murmured not through all the weary toil.”
THE BRIDE SHIP.
[Illustration]
THE BRIDE SHIP.
Massasoit was ill--very ill, and a Dutch ship had run aground near his
encampment. This news, brought by runners, caused Winslow to again
leave his family and penetrate the forests to visit the Chief, as he
was looked upon as a special friend of Massasoit, and could speak
Dutch. It was about a year from the time when Hobomok’s wife went
over the trail on her diplomatic errand. The Dutch ship had gotten
away, but Massasoit was decidedly ill. Among Winslow’s talents was
skill in doctoring and nursing, so with some remedies and food he
had carried with him, he was able to improve the condition of the
Chief. Massasoit’s delight and gratitude manifested themselves in an
important piece of information, which was that an Indian conspiracy
was in the making against Plymouth. With this startling revelation
Winslow returned. The matter was soon concluded, for their Captain, as
he believed preparation and prevention were better than cure, took a
picked company and the offensive, and came back with the head of the
bold ringleader. This salutary but grewsome object caused the women
to look elsewhere than the point on the battlements of the fort where
it was displayed. However the warning had its effect--discontented
Indians became mild in terror of the Sword of the White Men, as they
called Myles Standish. The picked company in this event was composed of
several of the young men who were specially, if secretly, favored by
Priscilla, Mary and Elizabeth.