The women Who Came in the Mayflower 3

The women Who Came in the Mayflower 3

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 sassafras and strawberry, fruit trees, fish and wild fowl and

“clay excellent for pots and will wash like soap.”[12] 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.”[13] Perhaps it was in deference to the women that the men

gave Samoset a hat, a pair of stockings, shoes, a shirt 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 at Plymouth three years before. He shared with

Hobomok the friendship 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 Massasoit, 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 shore and to “tread eels” in the water that is still

called Eel River. He gathered wild strawberries and sassafras for the

women and they prepared a “brew” which almost equalled their ale of old

England. The friendly Indians assisted 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[14] 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[15] to give comfort and

companionship 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, Oceanus Hopkins and

Peregrine White. With the exception of Wrestling Brewster and Oceanus

Hopkins, all these children lived to ripe old age,—a credit not alone to

their hardy constitutions, 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[16] 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:[17] “_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 ship. The seven huts, with thatched

roofs and chimneys on the outside, probably in cob-house style, were of

hewn planks, not of round logs.[18] The fireplaces were of stones laid

in clay from the abundant sand. In 1628 thatched roofs were condemned

because of the danger of fire,[19] and boards or palings were

substituted. 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 Rassieres 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 assigned 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.”[20] Four days later three seals

and a cod were caught; we may assume 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.”[21] 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,” John

Billington, who had run away to the Nauset Indians at Eastham, but he

was found unharmed by a posse of men led by Captain Standish.

 

To the women one of the most exciting events must have been the marriage

on May 22, 1621, of Edward Winslow and Mistress Susanna White. Her

husband and two men-servants had died since _The Mayflower_ left England

and she was alone to care for two young boys, one a baby a few weeks

old. Elizabeth Barker Winslow had died seven weeks before the wedding

day. Perhaps the Plymouth women gossiped a little over the brief

interval of mourning, but the exigencies of the times easily explained

the marriage, which was performed by a magistrate, presumably the

Governor.

 

Even more disturbing to the peaceful life was the first duel on June 18,

between Edward Lister and Edward Dotey, both servants of Stephen

Hopkins. Tradition ascribed the cause to a quarrel over the attractive

elder daughter of their master, Constance Hopkins. The duel was fought

with swords and daggers; both youths were slightly wounded in hand and

thigh and both were sentenced, as punishment, to have their hands and

feet tied together and to fast for twenty-four hours but, says a

record,[22] “within an hour, because of their great pains, at their own

and their master’s humble request, upon promise of better carriage, they

were released by the Governor.” It is easy to imagine this scene:

Stephen Hopkins and his wife appealing to the Governor and Captain

Standish for leniency, although the settlement was seriously troubled

over the occurrence; Elder Brewster and his wife deploring the lack of

Christian affection which caused the duel; Edward Winslow and his wife,

dignified yet tolerant; Goodwife Helen Billington scolding as usual;

Priscilla Mullins, Mary Chilton and Elizabeth Tilley condoling with the

tearful and frightened Constance Hopkins, while the children stand

about, excited and somewhat awed by the punishment and the distress of

the offenders.

 

Another day of unusual interest and industry for the householders was

the Thanksgiving Day when peace with the Indians and assured prosperity

seemed to follow the ample harvests. To this feast, which lasted for

three days or more, came ninety-one Indians bringing five deer which

they had killed and dressed. These were a great boon to the women who

must prepare meals for one hundred and forty people. Wild turkeys,

ducks, fish and clams were procured by the colonists and cooked, perhaps

with some marchpanes also, by the more expert cooks. The serious prayers

and psalms of the Pilgrims were as amazing to the Indians as were the

strange whoops, dances, beads and feathers of the savages marvellous to

the women and children of Plymouth Colony.

 

In spite of these peaceable incidents there were occasional threats of

Indian treachery, like the theft of tools from two woodsmen and the

later bold challenge in the form of a headless arrow wrapped in a

snake’s skin; the latter was returned promptly and decisively with the

skin filled with bullets, and the danger was over for a time. The

stockade was strengthened and, soon after, a palisade was built about

the houses with gates that were locked at night. After the fort of heavy

timber was completed, this was used also as a meeting-house and “was

fitted accordingly for that use.” It is to be hoped that warming-pans

and foot-stoves were a part of the “fittings” so that the women might

not be benumbed as, with dread of possible Indian attacks, they limned

from the old Ainsworth’s Psalm Book:

 

“In the Lord do I trust, how then to my soule doe ye say,

As doth a little bird unto your mountaine fly away?

For loe, the wicked bend their bow, their arrows they prepare

On string; to shoot at dark at them

In heart that upright are.”

(_Psalm xi._)

 

Even more exciting than the days already mentioned was the great event

of surprise and rejoicing, November 19, 1621, when _The Fortune_ arrived

with thirty-five more Pilgrims. Some of these were soon to wed

_Mayflower_ passengers. Widow Martha Ford, recently bereft, giving birth

on the night of her arrival to a fourth child, was wed to Peter Brown;

Mary Becket (sometimes written Bucket) became the wife of George Soule;

John Winslow later married Mary Chilton, and Thomas Cushman, then a lad

of fourteen, became the husband, in manhood, of Mary Allerton. His

father, Robert Cushman, remained in the settlement while _The Fortune_

was at anchor and left his son as ward for Governor Bradford. The

notable sermon which was preached at Plymouth by Robert Cushman at this

time (preserved in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth) was from the text, “Let no

man seek his own; but every man another’s wealth.” Some of the

admonitions against swelling pride and fleshly-minded hypocrites seem to

us rather paradoxical when we consider the poverty and self-sacrificing

spirit of these pioneers; perhaps, there were selfish and slothful

malcontents even in that company of devoted, industrious men and women, for human nature was the same three hundred years ago, in large and small communities, as it is today, with some relative changes.