boys to share the love and interest with her own, and the devotion
of four. We have already seen one of them, Thomas Cushman, left by
his father with Governor Bradford, until he should return to live
in Plymouth--but Myles Standish, returning from his mission to
England, had brought with other regretful tidings, the knowledge
that Robert Cushman would not come again. Another fatherless boy,
whom we have had but a glimpse of, is Nathaniel Morton, nephew to
Alice Bradford. George Morton lived but a short time as resident of
Plymouth, leaving his wife and family alone in the new house, but the
governor took Nathaniel to bring up as a son, and Juliana Carpenter
Morton married again. The third boy is also fatherless in actual
sense; he has recently come to Plymouth, but to the most loving mother
and affectionate step-father boy could desire, for this is Constant
Southworth come from London to his new home in the governor’s house
in Plymouth, as his mother had done, whom he strongly resembles in
looks. And the fourth boy? He is not fatherless, but has only lately
come to renew both the acquaintance and affection of his parent,
being John Bradford, from Amsterdam, youngest of the quartette, and
seeing him we are reminded of his girl mother, the governor’s first
wife. This group is soon to be added to by Thomas Southworth, whom his
mother is expecting from England. We can imagine these boys having
a pretty good time in the loving home of the Bradfords, and among
them grew up the three babies, half brothers and half sister to John
Bradford and the Southworth boys--only one girl to amuse and tease
them through the years of childhood, the governor’s daughter, Mercy.
Although step-mother to but one, the part had no chance for prominence
with Alice Bradford, in being at the same time aunt to one, friend to
another and mother to five. Perhaps it was because of this masculine
element at home, that Mistress Bradford was known for her special
interest in the young girls of the colony--daughters of her neighbors
and playmates of her Mercy, such advantages and accomplishments as she
had, she taught them. No wonder she welcomed her husband’s suggestion
of having her youngest sister, Priscilla Carpenter, come from England
to make her home with them.
Another woman, of the style and character of Alice Bradford, the third
and youngest step-mother, making such a success in her position as
to prove her the good angel of the family into which she came, is
Fear Brewster--now Mrs. Isaac Allerton. She already had the love of
Bartholomew, Remember and Mary--quite grown out of childhood, but they
must have been as surprised as the rest of the society of Plymouth that
their father could win her for his wife, as he was so much older than
she and always seeming rather preoccupied and self-satisfied. It speaks
well for him that such was the case and that her attachment and loyalty
never wavered through the brief years of her married life--and that it
was a shield to him from public criticism or censure is well known.
This not only places her before us against a background of esteem for
herself, but in a reflection of the high regard and affection in which
her father was held. Before matrimonial trials confronted her daughter,
Mary Brewster, loved and loving, finished her pilgrimage; the lack of
her presence affected many lives, her absence was an abiding sorrow.
Love of wealth seems suddenly to have overtaken Isaac Allerton which
made everything else of small importance. The pursuit of it took him
constantly and for long periods away from home, so his wife had little
of his company. His talents were of use to the colony, at times, in
England, but he seemed to really care very little for his old friends.
Nevertheless, it was he who completed the arrangements which closed the
connection between the original settlers of Plymouth and the Merchant
Adventurers in London. Plymouth, thereby, paid all its indebtedness
for assistance given and went its way alone. He also procured patents
for increased land holdings for the colony, especially in Maine. His
complete indifference to anything but his own ends was, perhaps, never
better shown than when he returned from one of his trips to England,
bringing, as secretary, a man who was already too well and unfavorably
known by Plymouth and the surrounding settlements, called Morton of
Merry Mount, who had been sent to England the year before, as an
undesirable. That Allerton could bring this man to his home, into the
society of his wife and daughters, made Plymouth gasp--and Plymouth
refused to stand it. The secretary was dismissed, and business affairs
again called Isaac Allerton away. On one of his trips he took his son
to visit in England, and Bartholomew did not return to Plymouth.
About this time, two girls of the _Anne_ added to the procession of
brides: Mary Warren marrying Robert Bartlett and Jane Cooke marrying
Experience Mitchell.
Passengers and letters came on the ships continually, both to
Plymouth and the other settlements that were growing likewise. Persons
desiring to come to the New World, took what ship they could and
landed where the ship took them. Plymouth having boats could always
send for their own voyagers and mail whenever word was received that a
ship had come from the other side, though not to their harbor. Thus,
one day, a letter came to Humility Cooper, which changed the quiet
current of her life as it seemed to be running in Plymouth. Relatives
in England wanted her to return. This was a surprise to her and to
her good friends, but, half wanting to stay and half wanting to go,
Humility prepared for leave taking. Henry Sampson, her cousin, was now
grown up--she need feel no special reluctance--but she was Elizabeth
Howland’s last link with her childhood’s days. As Edward Winslow was
sailing shortly for England, on business for the colony, Humility said
farewell to the ten years of _Mayflower_ and Plymouth association and
went back under his care.
During her husband’s absence, Susanna Winslow’s brother, Doctor Fuller,
was also from Plymouth. The new colonies of Salem and Massachusetts
Bay, just starting, met with the same devastating illness that had
befallen the _Mayflower_ passengers, and, as they were so unfortunate
as to lose their doctor among the first victims, they appealed to
Plymouth--and no appeal to Plymouth was ever in vain. Doctor Fuller
went to Salem and the Bay and had great success in curing many, though
nearly exhausting his supply of medicines.
During this year, and the next, all the old friends still in Leyden,
who had waited so long to come, were brought over at Plymouth’s expense
and there was great satisfaction that distance no longer divided them.
But the saintly Robinson was not among them. Five years earlier, the
Pilgrim men and women grieved to learn that he would never come to
them--his earthly labors having ceased. His wife and oldest son became
his representatives in Plymouth.
Intercourse between Plymouth and the newly established colonial
neighbors became frequent, leading to interchange of visits and even of
residence. The newcomers were duly sensible of what they owed to the
Plymouth settlers, who had blazed the way.
The opening of their second decade in the New World showed great
contrasts to those Plymouth women who remembered what the first year
and those immediately following had been. Now, they were able to see
and hear of the experiences of others, close at hand, with much in
common. The ships from England were no longer their only connection
with the outside world nor their only source of supplies, other than
food. Massachusetts Bay and Salem were glad to exchange commodities,
as well as Manhattan, but, being so much nearer, grew more interlocked
with the life and interests of Plymouth.
The ceremonial visit by the Governor and Assistants of Plymouth to the
Governor of the Bay and his wife, with the return of like courtesies
by Governor Winthrop to Governor and Mrs. Bradford were brilliant
incidents. Soon fashions, not clothes, and luxuries, not necessities,
for the home were frequent thoughts to the women, instead of almost
forgotten or sternly repressed instincts. Though they had not fashion
books, some sent for garments and hats from the old country and the
fortunate possessors lent these new fashioned articles as models
for their neighbors. A very taking way of introducing styles to the
colonists was by dressed dolls, or “babies” as they were called, that
displayed them in careful miniature. During recent seasons this idea
has been re-introduced, as may be seen in some of the shop windows in
our cities. We learn that, withal, there was sometimes a shortage of
sugar, which strikes a responsive chord in the memory of housewives
three hundred years later.
If the arrival of the first cows was a never-to-be forgotten joy to the
women of the _Mayflower_ and of the _Anne_, the entrance of horses into
Plymouth life was elation. The pleasure of owning a horse while it was
a novelty for their circumstances, must have aroused the same feeling
as the acquirement of an automobile has in families of our day; when
not an owner, to have a special object of ambition, if a possessor,
then a willing recipient of neighborly admiration. The advantage of a
horse to a woman, then, was to ride on a pillion behind a male member
of the family to meeting or to visit (until carriages came, much
later), or else, if quite accomplished, to ride alone, often with
children, baskets, or even a spinning wheel, as well, on the back of
the amiable friend of the family.
Ere long, life took on the virility and color we associate with that
spectacular period known as Colonial. Naturally, Plymouth now began
to overflow its first boundaries. As the children of the families and
worldly possessions increased, many made summer homes where the cattle
could have greater range and families more room. These new houses were
built quite in the manner of bungalows, for occupancy between frosts.
Winters saw the Plymouth residences occupied again. Gradually, however,
the summer homes became permanent, being made habitable for winter
also, and edifices for the religious services were erected. By another
decade Plymouth Colony comprised several towns, outgrowths of the
original. The new brides could make a wedding journey if they pleased,
and some went away altogether to make their new homes. The governor’s
wife was especially interested in two of the weddings at this
time--that of her sister, Priscilla Carpenter and her niece, Patience
Morton. The former was soon a widow, and, like her sisters, married
again. Patience became the mother of Thomas Faunce--a link between two
centuries--the identifier, in his old age, of Plymouth Rock, telling
to his and other generations what his parents had told to him, having
learned from the first comers.
Governor Bradford insisted that if the office he had held so long was
an honor and satisfaction, others should share it, if it was a care and
duty, others should experience its responsibilities also; his health
had been somewhat undermined by the efforts he had given to guide the
temporal affairs of the colony throughout the years since he succeeded
Governor Carver, and he absolutely declined a reelection. Edward
Winslow, having returned from England, was chosen.
Thus Susanna became the first lady of Plymouth; easily pictured wearing
the dainty white satin, lace trimmed slippers, or the white satin
cape, actually to be seen now, in Plymouth, visible magic means of
carrying us back to her days from the present. Alice Bradford smilingly
relinquished her position to her friend and devoted her efforts to
restoring her husband’s health. Yet this twelve-month contained more of
trial, anxiety and annoyance than the colony had experienced in many a
year; it could not have been other than a sorrowful memory to Susanna.
Early in the spring a strange swarm of large noisy flies came out of
the ground--ate the young green things, and disappeared. Such had
never been seen by the colonists and the Indians foretold sickness.
This prophecy proved all too true and during the summer and autumn
a devastating fever swept away a score or more of men, women and
children; some were of the new comers from Leyden, but the weight of
the sadness was among the old families. Gentle Fear Brewster Allerton
was laid to rest beside her mother, on Burial Hill, leaving her
baby boy, Isaac, to her sorrowing father’s care, who was spending
the summer with his two unmarried sons on their farm in the country.
Isaac Allerton’s sister, Sarah Cuthbertson, was also a victim to the
infection, likewise her husband. While Susanna Winslow was mourning
these two friends, her brother, the doctor, after fighting the disease
for the help of others, succumbed. This shock and loss to the colonists
was felt not only in Plymouth--while in Plymouth grief was deep. This
educated, Christian gentleman was sadly missed for many a year. What he
was to the people can be easily imagined. His widow and children were
devoted to his memory; in after years, the son, Samuel, studied for the
ministry and married a granddaughter of Elder Brewster; the daughter,
Mercy, married Ralph James; but his profession was carried on in the
Old Colony, after a time, by his nephews--his namesake Samuel--whom we
have known of since the Pilgrims’ emigration from Holland--and Matthew,
who came later to Plymouth.
The business affairs of the Colony became complicated in their trade on
the Connecticut River, both because of the Dutch and Indians. At home,
Roger Williams, whom they had befriended, acted in a very unpleasant
manner, so they were glad when he left them. Notwithstanding the
clouds over-shadowing them, this year’s return of the trade in furs
was noteworthy, and as election time drew near, it was decided that
it would be best for Edward Winslow to go again to England on their
foreign business; therefore Thomas Prence was elected Governor and
Susanna was again left alone with her children. The White boys were now
sturdy, manly lads, a comfort and joy to Susanna and the admiration of
their small brothers and sister, the Winslows. Another brother-in-law,
Kenelm, was a visitor in her home, and appearances indicated that he
would remain as a permanent resident of Plymouth.
Several marriages occurred before a year closed. Ann Warren became Mrs.
Thomas Little and her sister, Sarah, became Mrs. John Cooke, Jr.
Recently a family of four girls had come to the colony with their
father, William Collier, a wealthy merchant from London; from among
them one of the Brewster boys selected his wife and Sarah Collier went
as Love’s bride to the Duxbury home to try to bring cheerfulness to
the three lonely men there and to help care for little Isaac Allerton,
his mother’s legacy to her family, until he should grow up. Remember
Allerton married also, and was one of the girls who went away from
Plymouth to a new home in Salem, leaving her sister Mary, to give their
father such attention as he needed in his rare visits home.
At this time, in Boston, eggs were three cents a dozen, milk one cent
a quart, butter six and cheese five cents a pound, so housekeepers
not caring for the somewhat higher prices in Plymouth, could send for
butter or cheese at least, if they did not make it themselves, and felt
economically inclined.
In the early part of the new administration, when Patience Brewster
Prence was mistress of the executive mansion (which was the Governor’s
own house, whichever one it was), certain affairs concerned two of
the Plymouth women mightily, Priscilla Alden and Barbara Standish,
but particularly the former, which was caused by the interference in
Plymouth’s affairs by Massachusetts Bay, through misrepresentation.
John Alden putting into Boston from a trip to the Kennebec trading
station, was held there and imprisoned until Plymouth should explain
its connection with a shooting incident in which two men were killed at
the station. The ship was allowed to return to Plymouth bringing the
news of this cool proceeding, which, we can imagine made John Alden’s
wife anything but cool, and we can also think that the Governor was not
allowed to delay in getting John Alden home to his family. To do so,
Captain Myles Standish was dispatched to Boston, with the facts of the
unpleasant incident at the trading station, which were so different
from the representation which the Bay authorities had received that
John Alden was immediately set at liberty. We can appreciate the
feelings of both Barbara and Priscilla as they looked for the return
of the ship again. Barbara anxious for the success of her husband’s
efforts to release the husband of her friend, and Priscilla both
indignant and worried. However, the incident was happily concluded,
though more than Priscilla were indignant in Plymouth.
Later in the year, news came from London which caused the heart of
Susanna to burn with indignation in her turn, and for the same cause
concerning her husband as had agitated Priscilla. Through the old
jealousy of the Church authorities, on trumped up charges concerning
the business on which Winslow went to England, which was in behalf also
of the Bay, he was held for many weeks in the Fleet Street prison.
Fortunately friends were able to release him--but it was some time
before he was able to return to his family in Plymouth.
Meanwhile Eleanor Newton Adams and Priscilla Carpenter Wright, both
made widows by the epidemic of the previous year, became wives again.
The marriage of the former, who had been left quite well off, was of
special interest to Susanna since she became her sister-in-law, Mrs.
Kenelm Winslow, the third Mrs. Winslow of Plymouth and Marshfield, as
all had summer places in the latter suburb of Plymouth--Careswell, The
Edward Winslow place, soon became a permanent abode, handsome of style
and proportions.
This year saw sorrow once more fall on the members of the old
families--bound together by the powerful ties formed in the old
days--and many more, for at its close, the Governor’s wife was taken
by death--and Patience Brewster Prence’s short, happy life was over.
The religious convictions of the Pilgrims did not admit of undue
mourning for their loved ones, since they regarded the departed not as
victims to death, but as victors through death, and the lives of those
remaining must go on. Hearts were true, nevertheless, and even in their
wills the men sometimes especially requested to be laid beside the
graves of their wives and daughters.
The following year, April, brought a marriage ceremony performed by
Captain Standish, as assistant, which was of interest to many--that of
Samuel Fuller, loved for his own admirable qualities as well as for
being the nephew of their Doctor of happy memory. His bride was one of
the girls who had helped in the new settlement of Scituate, founded by
her father and other men from Kent, in England. In spite of all his
pretty playmates in Plymouth, Samuel found this girl of old England was
the one to receive his heart. But Jane Lothrop took him from Plymouth
to the newer township.
In August a furious storm broke over Plymouth and the surrounding
land and sea, inflicting great damage and terrifying the women and
children. It wrecked many ships, killed cattle and blew roofs from many
of the houses and knocked others to pieces in Plymouth, and uprooted
quantities of great trees; the evidences of it were prominent for many
years in the blemished beauty of the great pines which withstood the
hurricane, still remaining the sentinels of Plymouth.
When Edward Winslow returned, he again served as Governor, and one of
the weddings of that year was Mary Allerton’s. She was last but one
of the _Mayflower_ girls to marry--Damaris Hopkins’ marriage to Jacob
Cooke completed the list. Mary’s courtship had begun in childhood’s
days, when Thomas Cushman, in the house across the street, had waited
for her to grow up--while growing up himself and pursuing his studies
with the other boys in the Governor’s family. At the time of her
marriage the rumblings of the Pequot war were beginning to be heard,
which soon broke, owing to the mistakes of the Bay Colony, causing the
old time fears to return to Plymouth women for the safety of their men
and themselves. Under Captain Standish, the Plymouth men played their
valiant part, and Thomas Stanton, the interpreter for Massachusetts,
and Captain John Gallup did their full share to redeem the situation.
Richard Church had not long before come from the Bay Colony to
visit Plymouth, but meeting Elizabeth Warren decided him to remain
permanently, in spite of displeasure from the Bay authorities, who
missed him. He was one of the Plymouth fighters in this Indian
disturbance, as his and Elizabeth’s son, Benjamin, was in the greater,
bloodier war of a later time--King Philip’s--when the Pilgrim’s good
friend, Massasoit, was dead. Plymouth tried to settle down to its own
affairs after this, and had plenty to attend to.
A lovely June day seemed ushering in another summer when an unknown
experience marked that year as one to date by even as the one of the
great storm. That morning some of the principal men were meeting to
discuss important questions, and in the street and about the doorsteps
many of the women were talking of their own or public affairs, when
a violent though brief earthquake shook them from their balance, and
catching hold of whatever was nearest, they heard the crashing and
falling of things in their houses. The children were frightened and
began to cry, and all the women who were indoors came running out,
fearing the houses would fall. The men were no less concerned and the
streets presented a lively scene. Another shock was soon felt but less
severe, and that was the end. Indians came hurrying into the town with
their experience to relate; the quake was felt far inland and at sea.
What with the frightful storm, the alarming Pequot trouble and this
terrifying experience, all within a comparatively short time, the
nerves of the women must have been more on edge than for many a day.
The young people of Marshfield and Duxbury, married and single, clung
closely to their friends and associations of Plymouth and their
amusements were shared in common. Weekly lecture day, a diversion
of sober character, was nevertheless gladly welcomed as a means of
enjoyable intercourse, going or returning. Maple sugar making, Training
day, corn husking, apple bees were occasions for merry gatherings, the
sequence found in the frequent weddings. Dancing became popular, though
frowned on in some quarters, but it could not be repressed in an age
when the desire for physical activity and excitement was as natural
as now. Some of those early dance names such as High Betty Martin,
Constancy, Orange Tree, Rolling Hornpipe, The Ladies Choice, compare
with our recent names of Hesitation, Fox Trot, One Step.
The Coast Road from Boston, though never more than a few feet wider
than the old Indian trail, came to mean to the dwellers in the various
townships of Plymouth such an artery of connection to the life of all
as the Great North Road had been to the inhabitants of the little
villages, Scrooby and its neighbors, long ago homes to the elder
members of the Colony.
* * * * *