a solid mass over which ox teams and sledges have been driven for
several weeks, an astonishing and interesting sight and one may walk
over the ice to Duxbury as well as by the land. One afternoon bright
with the lengthening daylight of the season, sees a pleasant picture
in the old parlor of Governor Bradford’s house, for he is again
Governor, by urgent request of the community. A cheery fire blazes up
the wide chimney and there is gay chatter to the tune of the crackling
logs. Mistress Alice Bradford, now a grandmother (her son, Constant
Southworth having married Elizabeth Collier and having a little Alice)
has invited several of her daughter’s special friends to spend the day.
So we see Mercy, a delightful reproduction of her mother and father
both, as hostess to nine merry girls: Mary Brewster, Betty and Sally
Alden, from Duxbury, Mary Cooke, Mercy Fuller and Deborah Hopkins
of Plymouth, Lora Standish of Duxbury and Desire and Hope Howland.
Elizabeth Tilly had given charming companion names to her older
daughters, her first born having been named in remembrance of Desire
Minter, her dear friend. Desire was now at the age of her mother when
she had married--that mother seeming always as an older sister, being
still young herself in spite of the cares of a large family--but it
was more than a year later before Desire decided to marry, and be the
first bride, though not the eldest, of this pretty group. The girls
of this generation never having experienced the world’s hardships
and vicissitudes that had been their mother’s portions, having been
carefully and lovingly brought up in comfortable, cheerful homes, were
not anxious to leave them for the first time, even with love to point
the way. However, Desire was beginning to listen to the importunities
of her dashing young lieutenant--in later years known as Captain John
Gorham, who was to lead the 2nd Barnstable Company under command of
Major William Bradford, Mercy’s brother, into fame, at the Great Swamp
Fight in Philip’s War. The swift knitting needles click in Desire’s
hands as she stands by the frame-work of the western window, leaning
to watch the progress of the sampler which is being worked by a lovely
girl who is sharing the broad window seat with another, who has
evidently completed her sewing, having just folded it and put it into
a bag hanging from her arm. This young beauty is Betty Alden--eldest
of the family of John and Priscilla. She too, is eagerly watching the
stitches that are to tell the worker’s admirers and friends, from that
day to this, that the sampler was made by Lora Standish, only and much
beloved daughter of the Pilgrim’s Captain. That piece of handicraft is
the only specimen of their work that we know of and may look at today
as if we had seen it when its stitches were being placed, among the
group we are picturing of Plymouth Colony’s first-born daughters--the
first native generation of Colonial girls of New England. On a seat
by the hearth, Mary Cooke and Mercy Fuller have a book between them
and are reading aloud snatches of receipts for making perfumes, or
poetry, or jokes--this is not a monthly magazine as we might fancy
from our own experience, but a yearly periodical, welcomed by every
household--Pierce’s Almanac, printed in Cambridge, its contents holding
much that is similar but much that is different to the magazines we
know. Leaning over the high back, smoothing the soft hair of Mercy
Fuller, is Hope Howland. Bonny as her sister is, somehow Hope reminds
us more of little Elizabeth Tilly of Leyden. Mercy Bradford is placing
little cakes with a pitcher of cider on a big center table and lights
one or two bayberry candles in wooden holders that stand upon its
polished top and twinkle on it or in the shining pewter dishes and
cups. At the window towards the street, Deborah Hopkins and Mary
Brewster, granddaughter and namesake of our first Mary Brewster, are
looking out--evidently some one is expected. The last rays of the
winter sun, the flashing fire and the glowing bayberry flames, strive
to light for one more instant this appealing picture. There is sound of
footsteps in the cold air outside--stamping and laughing--the brothers
and sweethearts have arrived to take the girls home but first to have
some slight refreshment at the hands of Mistress Bradford and Mercy.
Cloaks are brought and velvet hoods tied snugly over hair both light
and dark, surrounding the pink cheeks and sparkling eyes of all the
happy girls who have spent the day with Mercy Bradford and her mother.
The snowflakes of winter have turned to falling apple blossoms and
spring has awakened the violets in the flower beds under the windows of
William Brewster’s library. The fragrance of these and other blossoms
is borne through the white curtained windows open to the warm air,
mingled with the saltness of Duxbury marshes. The library comprises
four hundred books, the largest and most valuable in America. Whether
it is or no, matters not, the books are the solace of their owner,
who while enjoying his farm life and appreciating the companionship
of his son’s families and Isaac Allerton, Jr., his grandson, dwells
much within himself. To keep the books dusted and the Elder’s chair in
just the right place, Mrs. Love Brewster has often the assistance of
her nieces, Jonathan Brewster’s daughters. This bright morning sees
Mary, one of the girls in the winter’s frolic at Mercy Bradford’s,
attending to these matters. A boy is deep in study by a bookshelf,
and Mary, playfully sweeps her duster across his book as she works--it
is her cousin, Isaac--preparing for entrance into the new College at
Cambridge. Up the road a horse comes at a lively pace and Samuel Fuller
has arrived to join with Isaac in reading the precious books, though
his father left him some of his own. The owner of the library glances
through the window and smiles and nods to the young people--Mary seeing
him, runs out to enjoy with him the sunshine and to pat the horse
tied near the door. Possibly William Brewster recalls from the past a
spring morning when another lad rode a horse, to acquire knowledge from
books--but he says nothing as Mary slips her arm in his.
This decade flashes many another change before our eyes. In a few years
the first church building has been erected in Plymouth, with Richard
Church as architect and builder, as seems appropriate. Its bell rings
out for many a year, succeeding the roll of drums to summon worshipers.
Many of the girls marry and the younger children succeed to their
pleasures. Mercy Bradford has gone to live in Boston as Mercy Vermayes.
Her mother’s loneliness is partly relieved by the coming to her of her
remaining sister in England, Mary Carpenter. This sister is rather
notable among the women of Plymouth, in that she never married. Her
attractions were not less than her sisters’; indeed, from what was said
of her, quite an appropriate companion for the governor’s wife, her
sister, Alice. Another exception to the general rule may be noted, and
another spinster of the colony named Elizabeth Pool, daughter of Sir
William, who coming as Plymouth’s boundaries expanded, and possessing
wealth, property and intelligence, remained unwon. These two esteemed
women, one a resident of Plymouth town, the other, one of the founders
of the new township of Taunton, are an interesting contrast. Miss
Carpenter lived quietly, uneventfully, until ninety years old; of a
religious frame of mind and given to kind deeds, unknown, through her
retiring nature. Miss Pool seems much more modern in her career. She
erected iron works and was altogether enterprising and a promoter of
advancement for her settlement. She brought over a minister for the
church in Taunton, so had a thought for religion, also, not only for
herself but for others. A record states “she died greatly honored, in
1654 aged 66.”
Edward Winslow was again governor for a brief period and then made
another trip to England, at the request of the authorities of the Bay,
as they had recognized his great abilities as a negotiator of business
interests and there were some affairs pressing on the Bay Colony which
he undertook to remove. This was to the regret of the Plymouth people
who were reluctant to have him go from their own affairs. He left
Susanna and his children, almost grown now, in comfortable Careswell,
and there, for several years, his wife awaited his return. Not that
the Bay or his own affairs took very long, but England herself needed
him, as it seemed, and he agreed to a diplomatic mission to an island
colony. Loving Plymouth and loving England he was not destined to rest
in either; his grave was made in the ocean he had crossed so often.
Susanna had parted from her husband for the last time.
Other deaths among the first comers saddened the Pilgrims. Elizabeth
Hopkins closed her long and honorable career as one of the women of
Plymouth. Her husband soon followed her. In this year perhaps its
greatest blow fell on Plymouth when their leader in spiritual and often
adviser in temporal things passed from among them. No words can more
fittingly describe the beautiful end of his earthly life than those of
the governor. There is no greater record of loyalty and affection than
that shown in the nearly fifty years between his followers and himself.
While his fame, as William Bradford said, is more enduring than a
marker at his grave--which he lacks, in company with so many--such
words as the governor wrote of him and such work as Constantino
Brumidi has made to represent him, serve to keep it vigorous through
the centuries. (In the President’s room at the Capitol in Washington,
Brumidi has painted Elder Brewster as typifying Religion.)
When Mary Chilton Winslow moved to Boston, it could not have seemed
more strange or different than Plymouth had come to be to her by that
time. Except the Aldens, the Howlands and her sister-in-law, few
remained who had been her companions and friends on the _Mayflower_ and
in building the colony. Her husband had become a prosperous merchant
in the West India trade and perhaps Boston seemed a necessary relief
to them. Their position became at once prominent and important and her
life flowed happily onward for many years. In one of her daughters,
Myles Standish, Jr., found his fate, and upon their marriage likewise
settled in Boston.
Meanwhile Susanna Winslow continued in eminence of circumstance, to
live at her beautiful home in Marshfield. Her boys, Resolved and
Peregrine, had married and made homes of their own but remained devoted
to her. Josiah, her youngest son, reproducing in a marked degree the
look and manners of his talented father, remained with her. As he grew
into the handsome, courtly man, whom all admired, she must have smiled
as she looked sometimes at the little shoes he had worn as her baby and
which she carefully kept with other treasures--such as the cradle in
which she had rocked all her boys and little girl. That little girl was
now Mrs. Robert Brooks of Scituate.
In the heyday of Plymouth’s prosperity a gentleman in England, long
interested in colonial life by the reports of it which had found their
way to him in his comfortable ancestral home, planned a visit to see
life across the sea. With his young daughter, Penelope, Mr. Herbert
Pelham came to the Old Colony. The spirit of adventure in them both and
the interest they found in their new surroundings caused them to linger
for a period beyond the length of a casual visit in their temporary
home in Marshfield. To the men, the companionship of Herbert Pelham
was a delight, and seeing her father’s pleasure, Penelope, with her own
various employments, did not long for home. Her’s is the last romance
we may notice as closely connected with the women of our special
interest in Plymouth colony, even as that of her mother-in-law, was
the first. Penelope Pelham, with her high-bred manner and aristocratic
face, made the only permanent impression on the heart of Josiah Winslow
and we can easily fancy that in making her bead bag, Penelope had
plenty of time to decide that for him she would renounce all thought of
returning to her home, and remain a colonial woman. The bead bag, her
dressing-case and her portrait are other links connecting us to those
vivid lives of our chronicle.
Soon Josiah Winslow was called to the place occupied by his father,
for a time, and by William Bradford for many years--when the great
governor had left it vacant, forever--so Penelope became the first lady
of the land in her adopted home and Susanna closed her life’s history
in the first place which had been hers so often in the colony--first
mother after the _Mayflower_ found harbor, first bride of Plymouth and
now mother of the first native born governor of New England. Truly the
footprints of Anna Fuller, since we found them first in Leyden, have
led us along a colorful pathway.
The records we find of her brilliant daughter-in-law show her a
character after Susanna Winslow’s own type. The second mistress of
Careswell lived there for many happy years ere she and her family were
forced to flee from it under the fearful scourge of Philip’s War.
Thus on through its seventy years of shadow and sunshine, heroic
daring, splendid achievement and independence, we may follow the
fascinating records of Plymouth Colony--especially as those records are
tinted even faintly by the footprints and finger-touches of its women.
As the first death on the _Mayflower_ at anchor was that of a woman,
Dorothy Bradford, so the last survivor of the original _Mayflower_
company was a woman, Mary Allerton Cushman, who saw all of the life
with its chances and changes of which we read.
Through the years we may well believe that the women of the _Mayflower_
who became the women of Plymouth, and their children, whether in newer
homes or remaining in the old, looked back to the early days of their
privation, when by their anxieties, their sorrows, their economies,
their endeavors, their fearlessness and faith, the foundation of their
colony was laid.
We may well echo their thoughts as they remembered some of Elder
Brewster’s words on their first Thanksgiving Day, which one orator has
expressed as “Generations to come will look back to this hour and these
scenes, this day of small things and say, ‘Here was our beginning as
a people. These were our fathers and mothers. Through their trials we
inherit our blessings. Their faith is our faith, their hope our hope,
their God our God.’”
A CHAPLET OF ROSEMARY.
[Illustration]
A CHAPLET OF ROSEMARY.
Burial Hill no longer bristles with the guns of the Pilgrim’s fort
but is thickly studded with the graves of the generations who in turn
walked on Plymouth’s first street below. One traversing this way and
recalling the scenes it has witnessed, must be indeed insensitive
not to feel the thrill that comes from treading on hallowed ground.
Particularly must this be experienced by the descendants of the women
we would honor.
We know that upon Cole’s Hill, Burial Hill and in the old burying
grounds at Duxbury and Marshfield are the graves of many of the women
of Plymouth, and some lie elsewhere, yet the exact location of how few
is positive.
The second wife of Governor Bradford requested in her will that she
might be laid as near her husband’s grave as might be. Their family
plot is easily found. By another will, that of Captain Myles Standish,
we may know where two of the women of his family rest--since his
own grave is located and his request was to lie beside his two dear
daughters--one his son’s wife Mary, the other his own lovely Lora,
whose early death caused him much sorrow. At Marshfield, in the family
burying ground, Susanna Winslow rests. A stone in the center of the
town of Taunton marks the grave of Elizabeth Pool. A tablet at Little
Compton, has been erected to the memory of Elizabeth Pabodie, John and
Priscilla Alden’s eldest daughter; she lived her later years in this
place. Mary Chilton Winslow lies beside her husband, in King’s Chapel
Burying Ground, Boston; their names are marked upon a slab at the gate
in Tremont Street. Elizabeth Tilly Howland, after she became a widow,
went to live with her daughter, Lydia Brown, in Swansea and there died;
her husband’s grave on Burial Hill is known, but she was not brought
back to rest beside him. The grave of Mary Allerton, who lived to such
a great age and saw the foundations of twelve of the thirteen colonies
which formed the nucleus of the United States, is indicated by a
monument erected to her and her husband on Burial Hill.
We would willingly make a pilgrimage to visit each known spot,
regretting, the while, that there were so many we might not include.
Yet upon all we may place the same unfading, if invisible, wreath of
the leaves that signify remembrance.
Descendants of the women of Plymouth are now estimated to number more
than a million. It is for them especially to rejoice in the results of
artist’s brush, writer’s pen or sculptor’s tool that have been produced
in efforts to recall to all the world that epoch in its history in
which these women lived, by portraying the events of which they were a
part.
Thus we have such pictures as Jacob and Albert Cuyp’s painting of the
“Departure of the Pilgrims from Delfshaven.” J. G. Schwartz’s picture
of “The Pilgrim Fathers’ First Meeting for Public Worship in North
America.” “The Embarkation of the Pilgrim Fathers,” painted by Charles
W. Cope, hangs in the British House of Parliament. “The Sailing of the
Mayflower,” a painting in the audit house, Southampton, England--no
more appropriate setting could be found for that portrayal. Charles
Lucy has called his picture “Departure of the Pilgrims,” it is in
Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth--that Memorial temple. Robert W. Wier’s painting
of “Embarkation of the Pilgrims” hangs in the nation’s Capitol, while
Edgar Parker’s copy of it is in Pilgrim Hall. A. Gisbert has given us
his idea of the “Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers at Plymouth Rock,”
and the “Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers” is the title taken by Henry
Sargent. “The Mayflower in Plymouth Harbor,” is portrayed by W. F.
Halsall, and Granville Perkins has visualized “The Mayflower at Sea,”
while Linton has engraved this subject. George H. Boughton has made
charming and familiar reproductions of the Pilgrim men and women, and
many another artist’s ideal has been depicted in the variations of the
subject.
Fiction, verse and chronicle with the themes of the voyage and the
Plymouth home of the Pilgrims have been produced by many able pens.
Skillful historians, essayists, orators have done justice to the men;
the events entering into their lives, the courage and valor which each
day brought forth, have been recorded with emphasis and unflagging
zeal. We are indeed glad and appreciative of the constant narration
of the facts with which we have become familiar. At the same time, the
regret comes to us that of the women so little has been said; that the
balance of the two groups of the colony builders has not been better
kept.
Of the Fathers we are accustomed to hear, but our gratitude salutes
those who occasionally mention the Mothers and Daughters. They were two
characteristic notes in the making of that Pilgrim score but because
the latter was more lightly struck it has been too lightly regarded.
Nevertheless, we rejoice that we know as much as we do of the women,
and in the knowledge that increasing recognition is being given them.
Recently a plan was made that a chime of bells should be placed in the
tower of the Pilgrim Monument at Provincetown and dedicated to the
Women of the _Mayflower_ by their descendants. More recently still,
Henry H. Kitson has modeled a statue of a Pilgrim Woman for erection
at Plymouth, in their memory. We may recall here the noble monument
erected by the nation to the Pilgrims. In this design a woman is the
exalted figure who holds the book and gazes over the sea. Also of the
four important though lesser figures, two are women. Hon. John D. Long
has said of the heroic figure, “Her eyes look toward the sea. Forever
she beholds upon its waves the incoming “_Mayflower_,” she sees the
Pilgrims land. They vanish, but she, the monument of their faith
remains and tells their story to the world,” which, as another has
said, “in romance of circumstance and charm of personal heroism ... is
pre-eminent.”
Well may be seen the qualities of heart and mind reproduced in
countless of their descendants who have carried on the influence of
their personality and work, deepening its roots down through the years.
“The light they kindled has shone to many, in some degree to our whole
nation.” In proof of this is a relation of some who have claimed
descent from a Pilgrim of the _Mayflower_ or of Plymouth. This will
comprise Presidents of the United States, presidents of universities or
colleges, jurists, diplomats, writers, artists, military and naval men
of all our wars, governors of states, church dignitaries, physicians,
scientists, senators, representatives, signers of the Declaration of
Independence, makers of the Constitution. It is difficult to begin,
more so to pause, in such a list.
Annie A. Haxtun has said of one to be mentioned, “John Tilly’s spirit
of adventure has fallen upon one, at least of his descendants,
General A. W. Greely, the Arctic explorer, watched over by the God
of his Pilgrim forefathers, was saved by the naval relief expedition
to do good to the country, which is his on a claim of more than two
centuries.” It is John and Hope Chipman, daughter of John and Elizabeth
Tilly Howland, who are also ancestors of General Greely; and it
may here be said that it is partly through his suggestion that the
subject of this work was projected (in the smaller form of its first
appearance); the other descendant likewise responsible was Mr. William
Lowrie Marsh, of Washington, D. C., founder of the Society of Mayflower
Descendants in that city; the ancestors of Mr. Marsh were William and
Alice Bradford.
John and Priscilla Alden, William and Mary Brewster, Richard and
Elizabeth Warren and Francis and Hester Cooke have as their descendants
those who have been Presidents of the Republic: John Adams and John
Quincy Adams, Zachary Taylor, Ulysses Simpson Grant and William Howard
Taft. Also from the Aldens have descended President Wheelock of
Dartmouth College and President Kirkland of Harvard.
Bishop Soule of the Methodist Church is in line of descent from George
Soule and his wife.
Descendants of Giles Hopkins and Catherine Wheeldon have added
distinction to the family. Stephen Hopkins, great grandson of the
original, again made the name famous by placing it among the signers of
the Declaration of Independence, while his brother, Ezekiel, became the
first admiral of our national navy. At the present time it is important
through Colonel Thomas S. Hopkins, a veteran of the Civil War, past
Governor-General of the General Society of Mayflower Descendants and a
prominent lawyer and resident of Washington, D. C.
In Washington, also, Mr. Ernest W. Bradford, an able patent lawyer,
continues the eminence of the name of his ancestors. Washington,
likewise, is the residence of Mr. A. A. Aspinwall, historian of
that city’s Society of Mayflower Descendants, representing John and
Elizabeth Howland.
A descendant of Francis and Hester Cooke is Major General Leonard
Wood, at present Governor-General of the General Society of Mayflower
Descendants.
The late Hon. Levi P. Morton, one time governor of New York State and
Vice-President of the United States, was descended from the Hopkins and
Cooke as well as Morton families.
From John and Priscilla Alden have come the poets William Cullen
Bryant and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and the first Bishop of the
Episcopal Church in America, Samuel Seabury; also the Revolutionary War
Generals, Joseph and James Warren, the former of Bunker Hill fame, the
latter President of the Congress of Massachusetts and husband of Mercy
Otis, writer and patriot. Benjamin Church on whom the mantle of Myles
Standish fell as Plymouth’s military leader, was the son of Elizabeth
Warren and Richard Church.
In line of descent from Mary and William Brewster is a family of
North Carolina, interesting in three generations, Chief Justice
Richmond Mumford Pearson, Hon. Richmond Pearson, Envoy Extraordinary
and Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States to Persia, Captain
Richmond Pearson Hobson, a hero of the Spanish American War.
From them also is Donald Grant Mitchel, author, Lieut. Alden Davidson,
an aviator in the World War died for his country; as his name
implies, John and Priscilla Alden were his ancestors. A great great
granddaughter of theirs was Faith Robinson; she married Governor
Trumbull of Connecticut, George Washington’s “Brother Jonathan” which
name gradually became a synonym for a typical American. She gained fame
for giving her scarlet cloak at a church collection for the army, in
which she was decidedly interested, having three sons as officers. Her
fourth son was the famous artist. Mrs. May Alden Ward, author, was a
descendant in a recent generation.