THE BRIDE SHIP.THE BRIDE SHIP.
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.
Ships and more letters, one bringing truly joyful news that, at last, some of their own people would come in the next ships sent out by the Merchants. This cheer was sorely needed, but as they were just managing to keep from starvation by the fish as almost their only food, they wondered how they could supply the newcomers with a living. The prospect was indeed dreary, as a protracted drought had wilted their cherished crops hopelessly. Another ship, bringing a rather important naval official in charge of fishing activities on the coast, came in. This officer, Captain Francis West, called Admiral of New England, made but a short stay, but long enough to fill them with anxiety as he told them he had spoken a ship at sea, had boarded her, found her bound for this port, and sailed in company with her until in a violent storm they lost sight of her. He supposed she had already come in, and, finding she had not, feared some mischance.
These summer days were dark for them, starving, with hopes of a harvest blighted by drought, and now distress for the possible loss of the ship bringing their loved ones. In this deepest gloom, which proved the fore-runner of dawn, they set apart a day of prayer, in humility and distress, by their faith’s steady flame. Under the glaring sun, the day began—but at evening the sun set in cloudsand the rain came for which they prayed. The corn, the fruit was saved.
Sweet and soft was the air of the summer morning some few weeks after this; birds sang joyously and a silver mist hung over the sea as Plymouth awoke to the new day. The women seemed more lighthearted than of late, shown by snatches of song now and then as they pursued the common tasks of the household. An indefinable feeling which had come to them that since the answer to their prayer for rain had been given by many refreshing showers, the one in supplication for the safety of the ship and their expected dear ones could not be in vain and all would yet be well, gave them more enjoyment of life notwithstanding a breakfast of boiled clams was all they could prepare for their families. The smoke from the chimneys rose over the thatched roofs, pointing seaward. Some of the men came forth from their homes, on their way to the day’s labors, and cheerily greeted one another, stopping to speak of the weather and prospects of plenty.
Mary Brewster stands in her door-way, arranging the sprays of the wild rose trained beside it—the showers had revived it and it looked its best. She had planted and tended it, hoping for the day when her daughters might smile at her beside its blossoms. Priscilla joins her in admiring it, both thinking of Fear and Patience on the longed for ship. They speak of this being the first ship to come having a woman’s name, and that she was bringing so many women.
John Alden stops on his way past with a morning greeting. What man more anxious than he for the arrival of theAnne, though his bride-to-be is not on the ship. Through many months Priscilla has heard love’s voice, sweet and low, tender and strong, and though for one reason and another it seemed best to wait, she has now promised to marry him when the uncertainty about the ship is over, for she could not leave dear Mistress Brewster, who had so mothered her, in the suspense concerning her own daughters, nor be selfish in thinking of her own affairs when the universal anxiety was so great.
They too, talk of the weather, of the breeze from the southwest, and glance at the chimney’s long finger of smoke pointing, pointing to the sea. Half unconsciously they look in that direction and watch the thinning fog as it seems to form in patterns like Flemish lace, as Priscilla says. Now it has parted and the sun’s brilliancy streams through making a jewelled pathway on the water. Quickly Priscilla grasps Mary Brewster’s hand and flings out her arm in the direction the smoke has been pointing. Against the pink and golden morning sky there is a ship, coming slowly, slowly, into the harbor, flinging before her wreaths of pearly foam. TheAnne!
“Then from their houses in haste came forth the Pilgrims of Plymouth,Men and women and children all hurrying down to the sea shore.”
Never again did the Pilgrims of Plymouth experiencethe thrill of that moment at the arrival of any ship, and only once before had the feeling approached it—at the arrival of theFortune. Though some emotions were similar in each case, such as relief and joy, the circumstances were dissimilar. The relief was for themselves, for their own welfare, in the first case, in the second their relief was doubled, as the welfare of those on the ship was the chief thought. The first joy was coupled with surprise at its unexpectedness, the second with thanksgiving at the fulfillment of a great hope and anticipation.
Fathers and husbands, brothers and friends jumped into boats to put off to theAnneto see and greet at the earliest possible moment those of whom they had been thinking and dreaming for so long. Here is Richard Warren, Doctor Fuller and Francis Cooke, of the first division, Jonathan Brewster and Thomas Prence, of the second, off in the first dash. The governor’s boat takes also his assistant, Isaac Allerton, and Captain Myles Standish. Those on the ship, crowding along the rail, see the boats coming to them over the laughing wavelets, and recognizing one after another of the men as they come alongside, laugh in reply as they wave.
There has been written some charming verses descriptive of the arrival in this country of the foreign girls who married members of the A. E. F. of the recent war. The conclusion fits well with that scene of nearly three hundred years ago:
“They loved our heroes well enoughTo leave all else besidesAnd make America their own,So welcome home the brides.”
Yes, and wives, too. The ship’s band, if there had been one, might well have played the tune of “Sweethearts and Wives,” while Plymouth’s drum and fife could have replied with “Haste to the Wedding,” or “Here Comes the Bride.”
When the excitement had subsided a little, in a few days time, the Brewster girls had the interesting event of a wedding in their home, for their old friend, Priscilla married the young man of her choice, whom they had never seen, until they came to Plymouth. There was little wherewith to make a wedding feast, but, at least a health could be given the bride and bridegroom in the elderblow wine, made a year before.
Indeed the great shock to the newcomers was the condition of affairs in the colony—the thinness, paleness and weakness of all, from want of sufficient food. The governor recalls for many a day the embarrassment felt by the Pilgrims that so little could be offered to the new arrivals, only fish and cold water. But theAnne, unlike theFortune, brought some supplies and necessaries, so the passengers were not a drain upon the colony as in the case of theFortune, but, rather a great help.
Following the example of John Alden, Francis Eaton took to himself a wife, thereby adding another to the number of married women among the original company. He wedded the only woman who has beenwithout a name in the history of theMayflowerand of the colony, perhaps the only woman in history who, being mentioned several times, has always been nameless. Of course she had a name and was called by it by her contemporaries, but seek as we may, she is designated only for us as “Mrs. Carver’s maid.” For Francis Eaton she stayed, when she might have returned with Desire Minter; for him and his baby boy, left motherless, in the first winter, who had been looked after by plain but kind-hearted Eleanor Billington.
A passenger by theAnnewhom we know, the wealthy widow, Mrs. Alice Southworth, brought her maid—but she was Christian Penn, and she married Francis Eaton for his third wife in after years, as the second Mrs. Eaton (we are glad to give her a name for once), did not live long.
TheAnnestayed at Plymouth over a month—a witness of the several marriages which she had brought about, directly and indirectly.
Alice Carpenter—the lovely English girl, going with her family into voluntary exile in Leyden, marrying there and afterwards living, a prosperous matron of London, as Alice Southworth, then crossing the sea, a widow, to become a bride again, this time of a Colonial governor, living thereafter as Alice Bradford, an adornment of the community about her and a great factor in its peace and progress—weaves one of the bright threads of romance through the story of the women of Plymouth. The governor’s marriage to the charming widow wasindeed an important event in the life of the village.
Somewhat of a surprise to all but a few, was the announcement of the coming marriage of the Captain to an old friend, who had come out in company with Mrs. Southworth, for the same reason, in answer to a proposal of marriage, by letter. Then followed another wedding, of special interest to all the first comers by theMayflowerand to many of the recent arrivals, that of big John Howland with little Elizabeth Tilly, as she always seemed to her old friends, though quite grown up now and nearing seventeen. John Howland had patiently waited, as other men. Thus, by the coming of theAnne, bringing her own dear daughters, after three years of separation, Mary Brewster was able to smile at the departure of two of her loving daughters of adversity, to homes of their own. In this practical and primitive life, no honeymoons could be thought of. Plymouth, itself, then lay within the radius of a quarter of a mile and there was not another civilized habitation in hundreds of leagues, so the only wedding journey of theseMayflowergirls, Priscilla and Elizabeth, was from Elder Brewster’s doorway to their own new homes; one down, one up the street. We know that these girls had in addition to the loving interest of Mary Brewster, the affectionate encouragement of Susanna Winslow and the warm friendship of their girl companions of Leyden and of Plymouth, Fear and Patience Brewster, Mary Chilton and Humility Cooper—priceless wedding gifts—nor lacking was the regard of the governor’swife, a contemporary bride and old friend of Leyden days.
Of these marriages we have not a sketch in the written history of those days, except in the new book brought by theAnnefor the colony’s records, and the first entries, most appropriately, are these. And that theFortunemight be represented in the weddings of this season, as well as theMayfloweranAnne, the widow, Mrs. Ford, proceeded to take a second husband, in the person of Peter Brown, one of the sturdy and loyal men of the colony, who had come in theMayflower.
The doctor’s young wife, Bridget; Richard Warren’s daughters, as well as their mother, and Hester Cooke and Juliana Morton, all arrivals by theAnne, hardly realized at first the sombre background of the life against which these marriages shone out for the first comers. To them it seemed they had arrived in a land of weddings and happiness—though lack of feasting and trousseaux was somewhat evident. Another interested on-looker, is the aunt of Remember and Mary, Isaac Allerton’s sister, whom we knew in Leyden as Sarah Priest, but, widowed the first winter after her husband arrived at the new home he was to prepare for her, she nevertheless came to Plymouth with a new husband, whom she had recently married in Leyden, and now she is Sarah Cuthbertson. She brought the little sister of the Allerton children, Sarah, who had been left in her care, but did not give up charge of her.
The augmented motion and sounds on Plymouth’sstreet, under the September sky was apparent. Many women had come; numerous children were there; the men’s families were forming new households; strangers getting accustomed to one another and surroundings; friends renewing old ties—the newcomers feeling a bit lost, nevertheless.
The life, such as it had been, for theMayflowerpassengers was over. That time, within the three years from their departure on theSpeedwellfrom Delfshaven, to their welcome of theAnne, at Plymouth, was a thing apart.