THE FIRE OF FAITH.The cradle that was brought across the sea for the first New England baby. May be seen in Pilgrim Hall, PlymouthThe cradle that was brought across the sea for the first New England baby. May be seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth.THE FIRE OF FAITH.
THE FIRE OF FAITH.
The cradle that was brought across the sea for the first New England baby. May be seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth
The cradle that was brought across the sea for the first New England baby. May be seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth.
As one goes along the road of remembrance, some readers as well as the writer may see before them the outlines of a ship at the wharf of, perhaps, an unfamiliar city, towards which they have travelled after careful planning and arrangements for a voyage which is, after all, to carry them towards the unknown—. Just so, and with the same feelings the eyes of the women passengers on the canal boats from Leyden, looked upon the form of the “Speedwell”, the little ship on which their thoughts and plans had for some time focused, now appearing before them with all the suddenness of reality and accomplished effort. Those whose former knowledge of ships had been far from pleasant, saw it with bravely stiffened reluctance or repugnance, while the younger were in contrast as eager to experience this new thing.
Some of the girls, whose memories, real or imagined, could stretch back to their coming from England, almost as babies, were in great favor and admiration with those whose life and experience had been only in Holland. So Bartholomew Allerton and his little sisters, Resolved White, John Cooke, Samuel Fuller (nephew and namesake of the doctor), relied on the good nature that would reply to their numerous questionings of Humility Cooper, DesireMinter, Mary Chilton, Elizabeth Tilly and Priscilla Mullins, for the older boys were too interested and too busy in the matters of moving the baggage and the preparations on the ship to give attention to those who had no higher travelling lineage than a canal boat.
It was evening when they arrived at Delfshaven and their ship could not sail until morning. That July night was too full of excitement and emotion for ordinary rest, even for many of the inhabitants of the town, who were drawn to the wharves by curiosity and interest to see this decidedly unusual party who were to sail from their port.
Though their old tower had seen the sailing of many a ship and the farewells of countless friends in its centuries of guardianship of the little city, no scene had ever been quite like this, and curiosity turned quickly to sympathy.
Friends came also from Amsterdam to see them sail, so that an animated picture filled the evening and morning hours. The fatigue of the women was forgotten or disguised in the sad enjoyment of these last hours with the members of their families who were not to go with them.
Fear and Patience Brewster see naught else but their mother’s face, filled with its well-known love, sympathy and energy, as she made one more effort at self-sacrifice and endurance for her husband’s sake, choosing to go with him and two of her boys who would need her more in the new life than the two daughters, left to the protection of their oldestbrother and the care of the Robinsons and other loyal friends in the safety and comfort of their Leyden home, cheering them and others with the prospects of a speedy reunion. Hope and courage gilded these prospects at the time. Sarah Priest, who is to have the care of little Sarah Allerton, her namesake niece, has her husband to part from, as well as her brother and his gentle wife. The doctor’s wife has a similar farewell to make to her husband, though her sister-in-law goes with her family—husband and son—and the wife of Edward Fuller goes with him and their son. Susanna White having all with her whom she holds most dear (her brothers, her husband and little boy) may be looked upon as one of the most fortunate of the company; it is the friends of Anna Fuller (as she still seems to them) who remain behind, who shall have heavier thoughts at parting than Susanna White, though her cheerfulness and kindness are not wanting.
Other women who are happy in having their families with them are Mrs. Chilton and her sweet daughter, Mary, who has ever a special attendant in the person of one of Edward Winslow’s brothers (two of whom had joined him in his life at Leyden and preparations for this adventure), so her valuable bundles of baggage are well looked after in their transportation into the ship.
All is well too, in the heart of Elizabeth Tilly, whose father is more than half her world, and next in it, the object of her girlish admiration, Desire Minter—the ward of lovely Mrs. Carver. Her step-motherand uncle’s family are all part of the outgoing company also, so her spirits may be light enough to amuse the children—herself but little past the boundaries of their land—Elizabeth Tilly with sparkling eyes and wind-blown hair, as we see her then, child of mystery and of argument after centuries have gone. Doubtless any or all of the older members of that company could have answered a question that still burns for some of us—who was her mother? Why the airy tradition floating down the years that she was grand-daughter of John Carver? As much, that, at one time, seemed unfathomable, has come to light regarding these people, this question may one day be definitely answered.
Katherine Carver and Elizabeth Winslow, feeling that since their husbands believed in this venture, and since they could make new and comfortable homes for them anywhere, all was well, are anxious to be off, especially as the former had for some time been separated from her husband, and looked forward to seeing him soon, at Southampton, where he was to meet their ship. Also the wife of Captain Standish, who had joined this expedition, thought that any undertaking with which her martial husband connected himself was right, and so long as she could be with him in any part of the world, happiness would be hers. These three women, having only their husbands to think of, are naturally drawn together, and each can appreciate the beauty and charm of the others, being equally lovely herself.
Like Mary Chilton and her mother, PriscillaMullins and her’s are happy in the thought that they are not to be separated from one another nor from the men of their family.
Among the friends of all these women accompanying them from Leyden, for the sweet sorrow of parting, is Juliana Morton, sole representative of the Carpenter family, whose daughters had been gay companions with them all, in past days. Juliana and her husband and family alone remained in Leyden, to this date, and for a time thereafter. The parents and the two younger sisters, Mary and Priscilla, returned to their old home in England; Agnes Fuller slept under the shadow ofSt.Peter’s church and Alice Southworth with her husband and two boys were at this time living in London—business affairs of Edward Southworth having shortened their stay in Leyden. They, however, were thoroughly in touch with the plans of their old friends, and knew of the difficulties with which they had contended. They also knew of the preparations being made for another ship with passengers, some of them strangers, some friends, to sail from London to meet the ship, from Delfshaven, at Southampton, and together cross the ocean. Like others of the original company their affairs did not admit of themselves being voyagers at this time.
Sarah Fletcher and Hester Cooke are two others whose hearts we feel are heavy, as their husbands are to precede them to a new country, and they must remain with all the others who will await the first opportunity to follow.
The tide has come in, the wind is fair. Now gaily clad sailors are getting up anchor on the little ship, filled with those whose trust is in her. All ashore for those not going—the last, the very last farewells must be said. Their beloved pastor once more leads them all in prayer, his entire flock about him for the last time. And so they “took their leave one of another; which proved to be the last leave to many of them.”
The ship moves out from the wharf, the wind shakes the flag—their English flag—above them, token of their regained nationality. A volly of shot from shore and three guns fired from the ship echo over the watchers waving to each other as long as individuals may be distinguished, and longer. How eagerly the imagination pictures the scene. TheSpeedwellon that fair summer morning, sails into the unseen fog of disappointment and failure that shall prove her name a sad mistake. But for all on board of her “the fire of their faith lights the sea and the shore.”
So they leave forever, Holland, that refuge which for twelve years had sheltered them, that school wherein they have been shaped and prepared for the great enterprise before them. Their own country’s flag above them, their own little vessel to carry them once more to England, if only for a farewell. Thus the spirits of sadness and expectation attend them and of gratitude and hope.
The summer breezes blowing from England’sshores came out to meet the little ship and caressed the hair and cheeks of that group of England’s daughters who stood, drawing their long cloaks about them, on the deck of theSpeedwellas it entered Southampton water. Once more, as so often in their dreams these past years, they behold their native land. An interlude of vision. Only two of them will ever return; for the rest it will remain a dream, a memory—for “Memory draws from delight ere it dies an essence that breathes of it many a year.”
An animated day this proves to be, with greetings from old friends and new acquaintances who have come in the ship from London to join them. The ship! They view it riding at anchor. Of its name or history few of them care. Yet what other ship has held more truly the form of fate for its passengers and of epoch for the world! But they could not know and it seemed then only their guide to cross the sea, their means of accomplishing the only way out of their difficulties.
A company of shrewd business men, as profiteering a syndicate as ever crushed the individual, had happened on this ship at the time they needed one of its size and accommodations for the enterprise they were planning to undertake in sending a homeless, well-nigh friendless, but dauntless company of men and women to colonize in America, chiefly on the money of these same people but supplemented by some of their own, and many directions, conditions and restrictions for their endeavors to whichthey had reluctantly to agree. King nor country cared, the merchants, their nominal backers, cared less than nothing for the personal success or good fortune of these voyagers, except only where advancement of their own selfish interests or claims for territorial advantage accrued and might be returned.
These two boat loads of pioneers regarded thus with indifference, may be viewed for a moment in contrast to that subsequent fleet of English ships carrying English passengers on whom all England from Crown to Commons looked with interest and in whom hope and pride were centered—the ships bearing colonists under the leadership of John Winthrop, to the same shores, ten years later, saluted by royal guns as they sailed away as voyagers whose adventure would reflect honor and renown to the kingdom, whose loss would be a disaster to the nation, while if either or both of these two unimportant ships with all on board had sunk at sea, as so nearly happened, the incident would not have seemed worth recording for a paragraph of history by the country, who treated these loving children with contempt and disdain. Nevertheless these brave pilgrims prepared the way for all others who later sought homes on the far shores of their intent and gave them aid and comfort by personal contact as well as by their example of unfaltering purpose. For their recompense to the merchants commercially interested in their adventure, the account shows them more than over-paid, at length.For their advantage to the country they left forever, since it did not understand them and did not want them, in long, long years from that day, perhaps the arrival of the first contingent of American destroyers in British waters, in the spring of 1917, to give a certain aid and comfort to England, may be accounted a return.
But thoughts like these were not in their minds as they are in ours. The ship from London, by name,Mayflower, was before them—an actuality, while for us it is a vision.
This vessel was twice the size of the littleSpeedwelland bore a popular and one of the oldest names for British ships. A predecessor of the name had in 1415 borne the flower of knighthood to France, to fight at Agincourt. Another had been flagship of the Duke of Gloucester. ThisMayflowerhad already a noteworthy career, the equal, of any, as a warship. She had been a member of Queen Elizabeth’s fleet, contributed to it by a city guild, and took a brilliant and prominent part in the fights of the Spanish Armada to the final, desperate and victorious one. Nevertheless in spite of this, her name would not have gilded a page in history, but on the day she sailed from London for Southampton, equipped for a long voyage across the sea, destiny began to weave for her the wreath of fame. Not a large ship—120 or more tons—and about 82 feet long, but what other is greater? Which more inspiring to poets and artists? The true and accepted model of theMayfloweris on exhibition at the National Museumin Washington, this was made by Capt. J. W. Collins, an expert in naval architecture, by order of the United States Government.
At Southampton the companies of each ship mingled on shore and on shipboard while the vessels were being made ready for departure. The allotments to the respective ships, the designation of quarters in the ships, were necessarily made chiefly with regard to the needs and comfort of the women and children. The number of each was increased by the wife and family of Stephen Hopkins and of John Billington, also by four children named More. These children, three boys and a girl, were protegees ofMr.Weston, one of the merchants interested, and, having no apparent connection with any one of the company; just what reason he had for sending them on this voyage seems likely to remain an unanswered question. The loving natures of Mary Brewster, Katherine Carver and Elizabeth Winslow accepted them as their special charges, and Jasper was thereafter considered with the numerous and varied family of the Carvers, Ellen, with the Winslows, while Richard and his other brother, increased the Brewster’s number of boys. For only a short time were these children to know these new and kind friends. Another unexpected addition to their numbers was in the person of the young man of Southampton, John Alden by name, who joined their company, as cooper, for the sake of the voyage and adventure—but who remained as one of them for the sake of the love and admiration he gained forsome in particular. Their business affairs being concluded, theSpeedwellandMayflowersailed from the harbor, but soon theSpeedwellwas found in a dangerous condition from leaks,—though she had been thoroughly overhauled after her trip from Holland. It was decided to put into the nearby port of Dartmouth, where a stay was made of ten days, at much cost to the pilgrims both in time and money. However, after this set-back, the ships sailed again and all had hopes of comfortable progress. Land’s End was behind them about a hundred leagues on the 23rd of August, when the Captain of theSpeedwellagain proclaimed that disaster to his ship was imminent. There was nothing else to do but turn both ships back to the nearest port. Plymouth welcomed them and kind-hearted people there tried to comfort and cheer the disappointed passengers. For some, these several returns to England began to affect their spirits as a portent or warning, but to others they but served to make stronger the desire to carry out their plans, in spite of discouragement, in spite of the charm of England’s summer days beside the sea, in spite of the bright and friendly town through whose massive gateways they had to pass to visit the busy streets and get their last glimpses of gay shops—sights which they realized they would never again see when they had emigrated to the new and lonely land. This acid test lasted fourteen days.
About this time, in their house in Dukes’s place, Edward and Alice Southworth received a letterwritten by Robert Cushman, while at Dartmouth, relating the unpleasant events that had transpired. Their sympathies were doubtless awakened, but even more their surprise, when, not long after, Robert and Mary Cushman and their son, returned to London; they and a number of others both from choice and necessity had left the company at Plymouth when it was finally decided to abandon the thought of theSpeedwellmaking the voyage and that theMayflowerwould go on alone.
Such of the passengers who had come from Leyden and who were to continue their voyage, were transferred with their effects to the other ship, and in this unexpected turn of their affairs, all had to make themselves as comfortable as possible. Disappointment and the discouraging delay could not have lent much enthusiasm to the re-arranging of themselves and their family belongings, especially in such crowded quarters as now became necessary. Finally, all being adjusted, theSpeedwellsailed for London and theMayflowerfor her long voyage.
Compactness could never have had a more effective demonstration, when one considers what actually was required by these colonists in the way of equipment, the number of people and the size of the ship. Though the Leyden contingent had brought little more than personal belongings, and as few as possible, theSpeedwellhad little spare space, while on board theMayflowerwhen she sailed from London were not only the passengers and their accessories, but supplies for the enterprise as a whole—othernecessaries being added at Southampton—also the regular ship’s supplies for the vessel and crew for a long voyage and return.
Let us glance at a list of articles which we know were part of the load: building materials for houses and boats, clothing materials, beds and bedding, rugs, spinning-wheels, chairs, chests, cradles, cooking utensils, carpentering tools, books, weapons, gunpowder and shot, cannon, garden and farm implements, seeds and plants, medicines, trinkets for trading with the Indians, goats, chickens, pigs, pigeons, dogs, beer and butter, food for the animals, dried and salted foods for the people. And some of these things we may see this day, as they have been seen on any day of these three hundred years since they were shipped on theMayflower.
We have heard careless or would-be witty remarks as to the countless china tea pots, which came in theMayflowerand are in every state in the Union, or household furnishings which would supply largely populated cities by the number claimed as authentic. Such amusing remarks cause a smile indeed, not however, from the cause the sarcastic authors assume, but from the ignorance or exaggeration willingly or unconsciously evinced. The known freight theMayflowercarried was a ship load and no more—and some of it remains to the present hour. China tea pots, or even one, never was part of her invoice; tea and coffee were not then known as beverages to these people, nor in their world; what a solace and comfort therefore was missing for thewomen of the voyage—for at sea, how seemingly indispensable are these important factors of present day life.
The women of theMayflower—let us look at them now, since all who ever may be called by that name are together on the ship, and fair days and moonlight nights give possible encouragement to them as the voyage opens. We see the forms of those we have known in England and Leyden, heretofore, some more familiar to us than others, but we are interested in all, however slight our acquaintance: and their new companions, lately from London, claim our attention likewise. Among these latter we note Mrs. Stephen Hopkins as an addition of great advantage; her vigor of mind and body, her decidedly wholesome and attractive personality wins regard from all. Her own little daughter, Damaris, and her step-daughter, Constantia, added one each to the quota of childhood and girlhood on board. Against the name of Elizabeth Hopkins, as against the names of two others of the matrons of this passenger list, (Mary Brewster and Susanna White) destiny set a shining mark.
Mrs. John Carver has her maid and her young ward, Desire Minter, also the frequent company of her dear friends, Mrs. Myles Standish and Mrs. Edward Winslow. It needed not for John Carver to be one of the leading men of this company, nor for him and his wife to have more of worldly goods than many, for Katherine Carver to have the love and admiration of all who knew her.
Quite a stranger to all is Mrs. Christopher Martin, and scarcely known during her brief stay among them; she and her husband were among the passengers from London.
Two pairs of mothers and daughters,—Mrs. Chilton and Mary, Mrs. Mullins and Priscilla—engage our attention, as Cupid’s entanglements are even in this serious adventure, since Mary has lost an admirer and Priscilla gained one. There was not room for both of Edward Winslow’s brothers on the larger ship, when theSpeedwellfailed their hopes, so John had to seek the new world and his winsome Mary, at a later day. John Alden, the young cooper, engaged for the voyage at Southampton, has already met his fate in acquaintance with the buoyant Priscilla. The names of these two sweet maids of theMayflower, (soon to become sorrow-touched women of the new colony) ripple as music through poetry and romance, or staid fact and history to our imagination.
Here is a group whom we know far less well; Mrs. Thomas Tinker, Mrs. John Rigdale, Mrs. Francis Eaton, yet we feel sure their qualities of mind and heart must be the equal of many of their companions.
Here are the sisters-in-law, wives of John and Edward Tilly, each with a young girl to mother—not her own—for Humility Cooper is cousin to Ann Tilly, and Elizabeth is a step-child to John Tilly’s wife.
Mrs. Edward Fuller, sister-in-law of the doctorand Anna White, is one of those sailing for another haven than some of the others, though knowing it not.
From London has come Mrs. John Billington, so different in style and manner from her women companions as to be quite noticeable, yet not lacking in desirable qualities to say the least; and little Ellen More, now in Mrs. Winslow’s care.
Mrs. William Bradford—standing in the shadow of tragedy—and Mrs. Isaac Allerton with her two little girls, Remember and Mary, complete the count. Mary Allerton’s namesake daughter stands nearest to us, of all that company, between that day and this.
“How slow yon tiny vessel plows the main!Amid the heavy billows now she seemsA toiling atom—then from wave to waveLeaps madly, by the tempest lashed,—or reels,Half wrecked, through gulfs profound.Moons wax and wane,But still that lonely traveller treads the deep.”
What words can better picture theMayflowerat sea than these of Mrs. Sigourney? The monotony, the discomfort, the terrors day after day. Since the waning of the September moon, under which the voyage began, the weather had become cold and stormy; the sea dangerous—whose roughness affected many and made the labors and duties of those able to withstand it, increase.
The ship’s cook was of slight service to the passengers, since his work was for the benefit of theofficers and crew only, therefore the preparing of their meals fell to the different individuals whose health and abilities so enabled them. With slight cooking facilities, it was necessary to rely chiefly upon such fare as did not require to be prepared by fire; gin and brandy were relied upon for warmth, and beer a tonic.
To this tossing ship, on one of these stormy days, there comes a stranger, promptly and appropriately called Oceanus, and the Hopkins family becomes one of especial interest, with its new baby for all the women and children to delight in.
Another day’s excitement is provided by one of the young men, who chafing under the restraint of staying below decks, imposed by the storm, ventures above and is no sooner out than over the side of the ship, in the grip of a wave. His presence of mind to grasp a rope, which trailed from the rigging in the water and his grit in holding on, making his rescue possible by the sailors, make a topic of conversation with sufficient thrill. One wonders if John Howland became invested with a new interest for Elizabeth Tilly from that day, or the few subsequent ones, when the great, hearty fellow was somewhat the worse for his adventure.
The shock of death enters when a particularly rough sailor, who had terrorized the women and children and annoyed the men by his language and manners, is stricken suddenly, buried at sea, and so one of their trials is removed.
The storm increases and all doubt not that theirend is approaching, since the ship is giving way, but this crisis passes, by the energies of the captain and crew and the aid of an iron screw, or jack, which was brought by a passenger from Leyden. That screw was the instrument which saved theMayflower, and we know not the owner—whose name seems of more interest to us than it did to them to whom the screw was the thing.
Another day brings a blow to Doctor Fuller and to all, since one of their own company is summoned by death, the young assistant to the doctor, William Button. Many begin to show the effects of the dreary weeks on the ship and look worn, weary and ill.
At last, at last, in a November dawn, land is in sight! A day spent in running southward looking for a favorable harbor, but none appearing, they turn about and return to the point of land first seen, and by nightfall are safely riding at anchor.
With the episode immediately following, the women had no actual connection, yet to some we know it was of interest, as their husbands signed the document drawn up in the cabin, and because of it Katherine Carver was made the “first lady” of the little group of friends, since her husband was then duly elected governor of this colonial company. More love, more respect, they could not give her as their governor’s wife than they had always given her as just one of themselves—tested and trained as all had been together in the years of friendship amid all the shades of mutual experience.
The next day new life and animation was evident among all on board theMayflower. Hope flung aside the grey veils that had almost enveloped her for many weeks and stood in the radiant garments of expectancy—they would not recognize the vagueness, the emptiness of her background. They had been brought across the sea in safety—they were about to disembark on the solid ground of their new country. Ambition stirred the weakest to prove the wisdom of their choice.
In the cabin of theMayflower, next day, their Elder led them in prayer and hymns of thankfulness. Around were those who had listened to him in the old hall at Scrooby Manor, and others who, since then, had made his way their way through life. We may easily picture, again, Mary, his devoted wife, seated in the old chair (which, at least, we may see actually), her gentle, anxious face silhouetted against the grim old cabin walls of theMayflower, as lovely to her friends who looked at her that day, as when its fairness had as a background her old home in the stately manor in England. All who were able were at this service, on what, for them, was Expectation Sunday, (though some were too weak and ill to leave their berths), and afterwards, walked on the decks looking at the new, mysterious land before them—recognizing various familiar trees, growing almost to the water’s edge, and accepting the attention of the surprised but welcoming sea-gulls. The little pool, across a stretch of nearby beach, partly surrounded by juniper trees, attractedthe eyes of the women with delight at prospect, if tomorrow was fair, for a grand and general wash day, with plenty of water, instead of the restricted supply that had had to suffice them for more than a hundred days’ effort at cleanliness.
The cold, foggy morning of the 23rd of November witnessed much energy among the company on the ship, riding at anchor in its lonely harbor. Small boats brought many of the women ashore with kettles and big bundles,—the first time that they set foot on the soil of their new country—and Monday wash day was established. The men who were not employed repairing the small boat, or shallop, which had been stored in the hold of theMayflower, and which they wished to use for exploration as soon as possible, cut the fragrant cedars or junipers about the pool, made cheerful, pungent fires, and swung the kettles for the boiling water. Some, no doubt, looked on it as quite a picnic, with lunch served by the fire, and the whole thing a change from the life of the past weeks.
The dusk saw the footprints of many English women marking for the first time that sea-washed shore, and the ashes of the first fires of civilized life, (with women as an important half of that life), mingling with the sands. The women went “home” to the ship, with contentment in their minds, but wet, cold and tired. Small wonder that colds became evident next day—with little vitality left to resist them. Misery had plenty of company.
Another day and the anxious wives whose husbandsmade up the first exploring party watched them row away in the ship’s long boat, land and march along the shore, out of sight, under the watchful lead of Captain Myles Standish.
Through the two days and nights of their absence, knowing not what dangers or disasters might befall them, we can never doubt that the secret prayers of Rose Standish unceasingly appealed for the safe return of her husband and the husbands of the other women, her dear friends, for whom he was responsible. And not her’s only we know were answered, when, on the third morning, the welcome sound of guns from shore, signaling the long boat, relieved the tension on the ship. What rejoicing, interest and even amusement was the result of their safe arrival, with curious trophies of their first land journey and descriptions of what they had seen and done.
After a few days, their own shallop being repaired, another and larger party went away for discovery. Another safe return and tales of interest followed this. And news of importance awaited them, also—for they found the White family rejoicing in the arrival of a son and brother;Dr.Fuller andMr.and Mrs. Edward Fuller in a new nephew, and Samuel in a cousin, in the little Pilgrim. Probably Oceanus Hopkins looked at his future playmate with interest, not unmixed with surprise that he was no longer the new baby of theMayflower.
Before the next attempt to find the place most desirable for their permanent location, anotherevent, far less cheerful, drew attention to the Whites. A young man in their employ, Edward Thompson, died, and thus became the first of theMayflowerpassengers to be buried in American soil.
The following day, one of the Billington boys in search of diversion, finding a loaded gun in the cabin and a barrel of gunpowder, promptly shot it off then and there; his pleasure was short-lived, but those who were ill or much startled by the noise, probably did not care what happened to him. The jeopardy in which he placed the ship and every soul on board was doubtless beyond his comprehension. The restlessness of the small boys in those cramped quarters was one of the trials the mothers had to bear. Our sympathy is for both.
On the 16th of December, reckoning by the calendar as we know it, the third and, as it proved to be, the final and successful attempt at finding the place for their settlement was made. But while much happened to the exploring party, in the seven days of its absence, and while the thoughts of those left on the ship followed them, at all times, hearts were heaviest there, and gloom as great as that surrounding the storm-tossed shallop settled on theMayflower. The moments were tense to the family of James Chilton, whose illness daily became more acute, and hope of his recovery faded in the hearts of his loving wife and daughter. Into the loving sympathy of their friends and their own deep sorrow, there entered a shock and excitement of stunning effect, when it was discovered that DorothyBradford was missing. Someone had seen her on deck—we see her, too—standing, in the sunset, wrapped in her long cape, looking over the water, alone.
We recall her as, years past, we saw her on another winter afternoon, in Amsterdam, standing with Patience Brewster on the banks of the canal, gay with skaters—the elder’s daughter, then, now the wife of one of the principal men of this company.
One who kept a record of those days wrote: “At anchor in Cape Cod harbor. This day Mistress Dorothy Bradford, wife of Master Bradford, who is away with the exploring party, to the westward, fell overboard and was drowned.” A woman of theMayflowerwhose experience of the New World was destined to be brief—and never of Plymouth Colony—the one appointed to lead the way into a New Country for many of the women who sorrowed that night for her sudden going. That no further comment or record was made of this tragedy seems remarkable. Out of the silence conjectures arise, as will in such conditions, without form or foundation in truth as far as can ever be known.
Mr.Chilton died the next day—the first head of a family to be taken. The illness which was gradually affecting many of the company, grew out of the colds and run down condition they had reached. It seems like grip or influenza of our modern knowledge, with other complications; its fatality was appalling. Mary Chilton and her mother had needof the uplifting sympathy and companionship of such friends as Mary Brewster and Susanna White in the dark hours of their sorrow. Theirs was the first test of faith. The little family of three had expected to face the new life together, with whatsoever pleasure or privation it might bring, and to have the one taken for whom and with whom the other two had willingly ventured, strong in their love and determination to bear their part in the work which needed women’s hands to secure even a semblance of home, was crushing indeed. Yet these women, already proven brave, would now be braver still and rejoice in the safe return in the shallop of the other husbands and fathers who brought the good news of a satisfactory place to establish their settlement.
The enthusiasm of these men at the happy ending of their uncomfortable and dangerous journey was soon lessened by knowledge of the grievous and unexpected events which had happened while they were away.
We think it was Elder Brewster who gave the sad explanation to William Bradford as to why Dorothy was not with the cluster of women and girls who crowded so eagerly at the ship’s rail to catch first glimpse of their men as the discoverers returned. These men had lately seen and touched a rock, for them a stepping-stone, that day of exploration, to solid ground—they saw it not as the gateway of a mighty nation; a rock which had wandered to that place from far away; a traveller, a pilgrim who hadwaited long to welcome these pilgrims. They returned now to the rock of their community, William Brewster, keystone of the arch of their high aspirations, molder and guardian of the firm principles that other rock so fitly typified.
One more storm and struggle for theMayfloweron weighing anchor again, one more disappointing return to a harbor which she desired to leave, but after all a calm day’s sail across the bay and rest in that quiet harbor guarded by the lonely rock. Her work nobly performed, her name immortal, she had reached the goal.