Part 1 (2/2)

There were women with frail bodies, like Rose Standish and Katherine Carver, but there were strong physiques and dauntless hearts sustained to great old age, matrons like Susanna White and Elizabeth Hopkins and young women like Priscilla Mullins, Mary Chilton, Elizabeth Tilley and Constance Hopkins. In our imaginations today, few women correspond to the clinging, fainting figures portrayed by some of the painters of ”The Departure” or ”The Landing of the Pilgrims.” We may more readily believe that most of the women were upright and alert, peering anxiously but courageously into the future. Writing in 1910, John Masefield said: [Footnote: Introduction to Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers (Everyman's Library).] ”A generation fond of pleasure, disinclined towards serious thought, and shrinking from hards.h.i.+p, even if it may be swiftly reached, will find it difficult to imagine the temper, courage and manliness of the emigrants who made the first Christian settlement of New England.” Ten years ago it would have been as difficult for women of our day to understand adequately the womanliness of the Pilgrim matrons and girls. The anxieties and self-denials experienced by women of all lands during the last five years may help us to ”imagine” better the dauntless spirit of these women of New-Plymouth. During those critical months of 1621-1623 they sustained their households and a.s.sisted the men in establis.h.i.+ng an orderly and religious colony. We may justly affirm that some of ”the wisdom, prudence and patience and just and equall carriage of things by the better part” [Footnote: Bradford's History of Plymouth Plantation; Bk. II.] was manifested among the women as well as the men.

In spite of the spiritual zeal which comes from devotion to a good cause, and the inspiration of steady work, the women must have suffered from homesickness, as well as from anxiety and illness. They had left in Holland not alone their loved pastor, John Robinson, and their valiant friend, Robert Cushman, but many fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters besides their ”dear gossips.” Mistress Brewster yearned for her elder son and her daughters, Fear and Patience; Priscilla Mullins and Mary Chilton, soon to be left orphans, had been separated from older brothers and sisters. Disease stalked among them on land and on s.h.i.+pboard like a demon. Before the completion of more than two or three of the one-room, thatched houses, the deaths were multiplying. Possibly this disease was typhus fever; more probably it was a form of infectious pneumonia, due to enervated conditions of the body and to exposures at Cape Cod. Winslow declared, in his account of the expedition on sh.o.r.e, ”It blowed and did snow all that day and night and froze withal. Some of our people that are dead took the original of their death there.” Had the disease been ”galloping consumption,” as has been suggested sometimes, it is not probable that many of those ”sick unto death” would have recovered and have lived to be octogenarians.

The toll of deaths increased and the illness spread until, at one time, there were only ”six or seven sound persons” to minister to the sick and to bury the dead. Fifteen of the twenty-nine women who sailed from England and Holland were buried on Plymouth hillside during the winter and spring. They were: Rose Standish; Elizabeth, wife of Edward Winslow; Mary, wife of Isaac Allerton; Sarah, wife of Francis Eaton; Katherine, wife of Governor John Carver; Alice, wife of John Rigdale; Ann, wife of Edward Fuller; Bridget and Ann Tilley, wives of John and Edward; Alice, wife of John Mullins or Molines; Mrs. James Chilton; Mrs. Christopher Martin; Mrs. Thomas Tinker; possibly Mrs. John Turner, and Ellen More, the orphan ward of Edward Winslow. Nearly twice as many men as women died during those fateful months of 1621. Can we ”imagine” the courage required by the few women who remained after this devastation, as the wolves were heard howling in the night, the food supplies were fast disappearing, and the houses of shelter were delayed in completion by ”frost and much foul weather,”

and by the very few men in physical condition to rive timber or to thatch roofs? The common house, twenty foot square, was crowded with the sick, among them Carver and Bradford, who were obliged ”to rise in good speed” when the roof caught on fire, and their loaded muskets in rows beside the beds threatened an explosion. [Footnote: Mourt's Relation.]

Although the women's strength of body and soul must have been sapped yet their fidelity stood well the test; when _The Mayflower_ was to return to England in April and the captain offered free pa.s.sage to the women as well as to any men who wished to go, if the women ”would cook and nurse such of the crew as were ill,” not a man or a woman accepted the offer. Intrepid in bravery and faith, the women did their part in making this lonely, impoverished settlement into a home. This required adjustments of many kinds. Few in number, the women represented distinctive cla.s.ses of society in birth and education. In Leyden, for seven years, they had chosen their friends and there they formed a happy community, in spite of some poverty and more anxiety about the education and morals of their children, because of ”the manifold temptations” [Footnote: Bradford's History of Plymouth Plantation, ch. 3.] of the Dutch city.

Many of the men, on leaving England, had renounced their more leisurely occupations and professions to practise trades in Leyden,--Brewster and Winslow as printers, Allerton as tailor, Dr.

Samuel Fuller as say-weaver and others as carpenters, wool-combers, masons, cobblers, pewterers and in other crafts. A few owned residences near the famous University of Leyden, where Robinson and Brewster taught. Some educational influences would thus fall upon their families. [Footnote: The England and Holland of the Pilgrims, Henry M. Dexter and Morton Dexter, Boston, 1905.] On the other hand, others were recorded as ”too poor to be taxed.” Until July, 1620, there were two hundred and ninety-eight known members of this church in Leyden with nearly three hundred more a.s.sociated with them. Such economic and social conditions gave to the women certain privileges and pleasures in addition to the interesting events in this picturesque city.

In _The Mayflower_ and at Plymouth, on the other hand, the women were thrust into a small company with widely differing tastes and backgrounds. One of the first demands made upon them was for a democratic spirit,--tolerance and patience, adaptability to varied natures. The old joke that ”the Pilgrim Mothers had to endure not alone their hards.h.i.+ps but the Pilgrim Fathers also” has been overworked. These women would never have accepted pity as martyrs. They came to this new country with devotion to the men of their families and, in those days, such a call was supreme in a woman's life. They sorrowed for the women friends who had been left behind,--the wives of Dr. Fuller, Richard Warren, Francis Cooke and Degory Priest, who were to come later after months of anxious waiting for a message from New-Plymouth.

The family, not the individual, characterized the life of that community. The father was always regarded as the ”head” of the family. Evidence of this is found when we try to trace the posterity of some of the pioneer women from the Old Plymouth Colony Records. A child is there recorded as ”the son of Nicholas Snow,” ”the son of John Winslow” or ”the daughter of Thomas Cushman” with no hint that the mothers of these children were, respectively, Constance Hopkins, Mary Chilton and Mary Allerton, all of whom came in _The Mayflower,_ although the fathers arrived at Plymouth later on _The Fortune_ and _The Ann_.

It would be unjust to a.s.sume that these women were conscious heroines.

They wrought with courage and purpose equal to these traits in the men, but probably none of the Pilgrims had a definite vision of the future. With words of appreciation that are applicable to both s.e.xes, ex-President Charles W. Eliot has said: [Footnote: Eighteenth Annual Dinner of Mayflower Society, Nov. 20, 1913.] ”The Pilgrims did not know the issue and they had no vision of it. They just loved liberty and toleration and truth, and hoped for more of it, for more liberty, for a more perfect toleration, for more truth, and they put their lives, their labors, at the disposition of those loves without the least vision of this republic, or of what was going to come out of their industry, their devotion, their dangerous and exposed lives.”

CHAPTER II

COMMUNAL AND FAMILY LIFE IN PLYMOUTH 1621-1623

Spring and summer came to bless them for their endurance and unconscious heroism. Then they could appreciate the verdict of their leaders, who chose the site of Plymouth as a ”hopeful place,” with running brooks, vines of sa.s.safras and strawberry, fruit trees, fish and wild fowl and ”clay excellent for pots and will wash like soap.”

[Footnote: Mourt's Relation] So early was the spring in 1621 that on March the third there was a thunder storm and ”the birds sang in the woods most pleasantly.” On March the sixteenth, Samoset came with Indian greeting. This visit must have been one of mixed sentiments for the women and we can read more than the mere words in the sentence, ”We lodged him that night at Stephen Hopkins' house and watched him.”

[Footnote: Mourt's Relation.] Perhaps it was in deference to the women that the men gave Samoset a hat, a pair of stockings, shoes, a s.h.i.+rt and a piece of cloth to tie about his waist. Samoset returned soon with Squanto or Tisquantum, the only survivor of the Patuxet tribe of Indians which had perished of a pestilence Plymouth three years before. He shared with Hobomok the friends.h.i.+p of the settlers for many years and both Indians gave excellent service. Through the influence of Squanto the treaty was made in the spring of 1621 with Ma.s.sasoit, the first League of Nations to preserve peace in the new world.

Squanto showed the men how to plant alewives or herring as fertilizer for the Indian corn. He taught the boys and girls how to gather clams and mussels on the sh.o.r.e and to ”tread eels” in the water that is still called Eel River. He gathered wild strawberries and sa.s.safras for the women and they prepared a ”brew” which almost equalled their ale of old England. The friendly Indians a.s.sisted the men, as the seasons opened, in hunting wild turkeys, ducks and an occasional deer, welcome additions to the store of fish, sea-biscuits and cheese. We are told [Footnote: Mourt's Relation] that Squanto brought also a dog from his Indian friends as a gift to the settlement. Already there were, at least, two dogs, probably brought from Holland or England, a mastiff and a spaniel [Footnote: Winslow's Narration] to give comfort and companions.h.i.+p to the women and children, and to go with the men into the woods for timber and game.

It seems paradoxical to speak of child-life in this hard-pressed, serious-minded colony, but it was there and, doubtless, it was normal in its joyous and adventuresome impulses. Under eighteen years of age were the girls, Remember and Mary Allerton, Constance and Damaris Hopkins, Elizabeth Tilley and, possibly, Desire Minter and Humility Cooper. The boys were Bartholomew Allerton, who ”learned to sound the drum,” John Crakston, William Latham, Giles Hopkins, John and Francis Billington, Richard More, Henry Sampson, John Cooke, Resolved White, Samuel Fuller, Love and Wrestling Brewster and the babies, Ocea.n.u.s Hopkins and Peregrine White. With the exception of Wrestling Brewster and Ocea.n.u.s Hopkins, all these children lived to ripe old age,--a credit not alone to their hardy const.i.tutions, but also to the care which the Plymouth women bestowed upon their households.

The flowers that grew in abundance about the settlement must have given them joy,--_arbutus_ or ”mayflowers,” wild roses, blue chicory, Queen Anne's lace, purple asters, golden-rod and the beautiful sabbatia or ”sentry” which is still found on the banks of the fresh ponds near the town and is called ”the Plymouth rose.”

Edward Winslow tells [Footnote: Relation of the Manners, Customs, etc., of the Indians.] of the drastic use of this bitter plant in developing hardihood among Indian boys. Early in the first year one of these fresh-water ponds, known as Billington Sea, was discovered by Francis Billington when he had climbed a high hill and had reported from it ”a smaller sea.” Blackberries, blueberries, plums and cherries must have been delights to the women and children. Medicinal herbs were found and used by advice of the Indian friends; the bayberry's virtues as salve, if not as candle-light, were early applied to the comforts of the households. Robins, bluebirds, ”Bob Whites” and other birds sang for the pioneers as they sing for the tourist and resident in Plymouth today. The mosquito had a sting,--for Bradford gave a droll and pungent answer to the discontented colonists who had reported, in 1624, that ”the people are much annoyed with musquetoes.”

He wrote: [Footnote: Bradford's History of Plymouth Plantation, Bk. II.] _”They_ are too delicate and unfitte to begin new plantations and colonies that cannot enduer the biting of a muskeet. We would wish such to keep at home till at least they be muskeeto proof. Yet this place is as free as any and experience teacheth that ye land is tild and ye woods cut downe, the fewer there will be and in the end scarce any at all.” The _end_ has not yet come!

Good harvests and some thrilling incidents varied the hard conditions of life for the women during 1621-2. Indian corn and barley furnished a new foundation for many ”a savory dish” prepared by the housewives in the mortar and pestles, kettles and skillets which they had brought from Holland. Nuts were used for food, giving piquant flavor both to ”cakes” baked in the fire and to the stuffing of wild turkeys. The fare was simple, but it must have seemed a feast to the Pilgrims after the months of self-denials and extremity.

Before the winter of 1621-2 was ended, seven log houses had been built and four ”common buildings” for storage, meetings and workshops.

Already clapboards and furs were stored to be sent back to England to the merchant adventurers in the first s.h.i.+p. The seven huts, with thatched roofs and chimneys on the outside, probably in cob-house style, were of hewn planks, not of round logs. [Footnote: The Pilgrim Republic, John A. Goodwin, p. 582.] The fireplaces were of stones laid in clay from the abundant sand. In 1628 thatched roofs were condemned because of the danger of fire, [Footnote: Records of the Colony of New Plymouth.] and boards or palings were subst.i.tuted. During the first two years or longer, light came into the houses through oiled paper in the windows. From the plans left by Governor Bradford and the record of the visit of De Ra.s.sieres to Plymouth, in 1627, one can visualize this first street in New England, leading from Plymouth harbor up the hill to the cannon and stockade where, later, was the fort. At the intersection of the first street and a cross-highway stood the Governor's house. It was fitting that the lot nearest to the fort hill should be a.s.signed to Miles Standish and John Alden. All had free access to the brook where flagons were filled for drink and where the clothes were washed.

A few events that have been recorded by Winslow, Bradford and Morton were significant and must have relieved the monotony of life. On January fourth an eagle was shot, cooked and proved ”to be excellent meat; it was hardly to be discerned from mutton.” [Footnote: Mourt's Relation.] Four days later three seals and a cod were caught; we may a.s.sume that they furnished oil, meat and skins for the household.

About the same time, John Goodman and Peter Brown lost their way in the woods, remained out all night, thinking they heard lions roar (mistaking wolves for lions), and on their return the next day John Goodman's feet were so badly frozen ”that it was a long time before he was able to go.” [Footnote: _Ibid._] Wild geese were shot and used for broth on the ninth of February; the same day the Common House was set ablaze, but was saved from destruction. It is easy to imagine the exciting effects of such incidents upon the band of thirteen boys and seven girls, already enumerated. In July, the cry of ”a lost child” aroused the settlement to a search for that ”unwhipt rascal,”

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