Chapter I: Part 1

The Women of the Mayflower

and

Women of Plymouth Colony

By

Ethel J. R. C. Noyes

Plymouth, Massachusetts
1921

Copyright, 1921, by
ETHEL J. R. C. NOYES.

Linotyped and Printed by Memorial Press, Plymouth, Mass.

FOREWORD.

The Pilgrim Women have been written about so little that it is indeed a pleasure to welcome a book bearing the title, “The Women of the Mayflower and Plymouth Colony.” History has dwelt long and minutely upon the Pilgrim Fathers and their great adventure, but has passed over the women with a generalization and occasionally a tribute. Even their contemporaries have had but little to say about them. The author of this little book is to be highly commended therefore for this much needed addition to our meagre store of literature about the mothers of this Nation.

There is much need to-day to perpetuate their spirit, to practise their faith, to maintain their ideals. They loved liberty and endured hardship, sacrifice and suffering for its sake. They built the homes of the Nation on the foundation of English ideals of home and family life which we cherish to-day as ours. They served their homes and the community life of the colony with loyal and unswerving devotion. They brought up their families in those rugged virtues and a living faith in God, without which nations perish. They have a message for us to-day, calling us back, not to their austerities but to their righteousness and spirituality. Such books as this help to spread that message throughout the Nation.

(Signed) ANNE ROGERS MINOR,
_President General,
National Society, Daughters of the American
Revolution_.

The Women of the Mayflower

and

Women of Plymouth Colony

THE GREAT NORTH ROAD 11

THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT 23

UNDER THE LINDENS OF LEYDEN 35

THE FIRE OF FAITH 55

THE FIRST STREET 83

THE BRIDE SHIP 119

BENEATH THE PINES OF PLYMOUTH 131

A CHAPLET OF ROSEMARY 183

THE GREAT NORTH ROAD.

THE GREAT NORTH ROAD.

Three hundred and a few more years ago the Great North Road leading from London to Edinburgh ran through and by an English village in Nottinghamshire just as it had done three hundred years earlier than that and as it has these three hundred years. The streets of the village ran toward it and into it as brooks flow to a river, it being the main thoroughfare of travel and therefore source of all outside interests for the inhabitants of the village.

At the corner as one could say, of one of these little streets or roads where it joined the Great Road, one spring day of the sixteenth century, we might see a group of some of the villagers, young people principally, and it is plain some event of unusual interest has called them together; they are laughing and waving to a young man who rides away from them down the road, a friend who has been one of them from childhood and popular as evidenced by the number who have been wishing him a safe journey and all the usual farewells of any time and place. This young man with the pleasing face and manner is the son of the postmaster of the village and he goes to college; his erstwhile companions gaze after his retreating figure down the Great Road through the meadows and farm lands and there is one girl looks the longest--a girl named Mary.

Other times other manners in some things--yet even today in another country village we have seen the postmaster’s son leave home for college, not on horseback but in an automobile, and a gay crowd of his friends seeing him off, his presence to be missed in much the same degree as among those we are now viewing with the mind’s eye. Though time and circumstance be the result of the passing of three hundred years, human nature remains as unchanged as the sky and sea; the student of the present whom we mention may be cousin of a Cabinet official, that scarcely is remembered at the moment, neither is it thought of that the boy who rides on the Great Northern Road is a member of one of the most substantial county families, with powerful friends ecclesiastical and lay. As the turn of the road will soon take him from sight, he looks back at the group watching him for a final wave of his hat, then rides on towards his destination, Cambridge, thinking, perhaps, of the gentle Mary, whom we have noted, whose fine character and winning ways are already an influence with him and not thinking at all, or knowing, of another Mary who is to be perhaps an equal if not more potent influence in his life--a woman in as great a contrast in rank and circumstance as the difference may be between a queen and a village maid.

The gay group now lessens as some turn their steps towards their daily tasks, a few of the boys perchance to a long walk to the nearest school, few and far between in those days; others to help in the farm work, if parents could not spare them; the girls to look after the flocks on the Commons, or home work, such as cooking, wool spinning, caring for the children or the sick. In this time and locality no hospitals, orphanages or homes for the aged were there to relieve the sick or homeless; friendship and charity must indeed have reached a crest among these only moderately well to do people, education was backward from conditions easily found, yet a thread of knowledge of life in other countries as well as their own came almost daily to these quiet, rustic people, not by books or newspapers, (the first seen rarely, the last not existing), nor by letters which were not publicly delivered by the government until some time later, but by the constant travellers on foot or on horseback by the Great Road. The post house, both an inn, relay station and receptible for news, though not a post office as is today thought of by the words, was the finest house in this particular town and well known, from the north country to London. The position of postmaster was a coveted benefaction of the government, the salary being large and enabling the official to lease the manor house from a wealthy ecclesiastic. The office at this time had been retained in one family for several generations. Thus the men and women and children, of course, had plenty to talk about beside their local interests at gatherings at the inn or after church services on Sundays, for the old Church still was revered and followed, the changes that were coming to some of its then supporters not yet discernable.

As we have selected a spring day for our glimpse into this long ago life we may hear conversation among our young friends of the coming May Day fetes and procession of mummers and maskers, and plans being formed and opinions given as to who should act the usual characters in the masque of Robin Hood. It was a pity indeed that “Will” would not be with them this year; who might be Alan a Dale in his stead? But Will was graver since learning Latin and Greek, perhaps he would not care for their good times as much as he used to. A mistake surely--Will was just as sociable and genial as ever.

Thus Mary and an Alice and Elizabeth and another Mary and Katherine chatted away of coming pleasures and absent friends as blithe as any similar bevy of girls in a far futured century from theirs can do.

In front of one of the cottages another group has gathered; a peddler has come in and the older women have let the brew and baking wait a few moments to hear the news of the towns he has come from on his chain of travel, where other friends dwell, and to see his merchandise. The girls’ eyes gleam as they join the listeners and prospective buyers, departing Will and coming dances forgotten for the moment in this new interest of the day. Joy! Patty, across the river, has sent a message to Bess; not a written note, oh, no, for neither she could write nor Bess could read it, but a message well delivered by the friendly vender of trifles, so why give a thought to a lack of ability to read or write just then, when one has learned, nevertheless, the latest important event in the life of a dear friend in her very own words. The peddler was a reliable and patient transmitter of words or gifts; a telephone and parcel post in one, and always a welcome visitor. Today he might be telling of the pageant lately given in a city not far away in distance, but far in fact to them, to entertain the Queen on a visit she had made there in the interests of the enterprise and industry that “Good Queen Bess” endeavored to prosper in her land. Fashions were also described, as the old time peddlers were indeed specialists in much beside selling commodities and fancies. It is decided that Molly “shall have a new ribbon to tie in her nut brown hair.” A new clasp knife is needed by some one;--listen to the tale of the strange vegetables now being brought for the nobles and gentry from the place called the Queen’s kitchen garden in Holland. He had seen them and they were good to taste;--a measure of linen? yes; starch just imported and the use explained; a looking-glass, none too many on hand for comfort; a Bible printed in English by a Dutch printer--he has just sold one to the rector in a neighboring town--and so the peddler passes by.

An arrival at the inn, later in the day, of a high dignitary of the Church with his train of employees made bustle about the village while horses were changed. Towards evening, many of the people gathered about the manor house, old in their day, and while the sunset gleamed in the fish ponds on the estate and touched the church’s spire, they talked of that day’s and other day’s events, discussed the curtailment of the commons, as the landlords enclosed more and more, whereof one had said not that geese were stolen from the common but the common taken from under the geese; stories heard from travellers, or doubted what they could not believe. A noted personage had passed that way quite recently who had made more than ordinary impression, a gentleman of the court going on an important mission to Scotland, then quite as foreign seeming a country as Holland, where this gentleman had lived also. He had talked especially with Will, the postmaster’s son and seemed glad to hear about his studies, and was altogether friendly. But few travellers changed the course of the lives of any of the dwellers in this community as this same pleasant gentleman was to do for some. Could Mary have dreamed that she should see her Will one day riding away again, not to studies of Latin and Greek but in company with this same gallant gentleman, to the study and knowledge of a new world and language, as private secretary of Queen Elizabeth’s ambassador to Holland?

Neighborly visits, while the twilight lingers after babies are in their cradles, for recounting impressions and retelling news; thus the women of that little village close a day like many another of which their lives were made.

“Weaving through all the poor details
And homespun warp of circumstance
A golden woof-thread of romance.”

Time to measure of several years, is spent almost unnoted by these quiet dwellers in the village of Scrooby, the village we have pictured; life for them does not greatly change, but for William Brewster, the postmaster’s son, change, variety, experience, have filled each day since Mr. Davidson, the Queen’s ambassador and advisor, called him to become his secretary and confidential friend. The experiences of this period both abroad and in his own country have been narrated by many and may be read in various writings. At the close of these interesting years, when all things pointed to a continuance of the brilliant life stretching before him as courtier or politician, suddenly all was changed. One day, news came to Scrooby, as to the rest of the country, that Mary the Beautiful, exiled Queen of Scots, was dead. How this event directly affected William Brewster and brought him to his home again may also be read elsewhere. He became once more a country resident, welcomed and beloved by all his old friends. The day of days dawned for Mary and smiled upon her marriage with Will. He received the appointment to the Scrooby post, in succession to his father, so the old manor house became home to Mary for many years, and as the wife of the most respected and admired man of the community--the leader in thought and opinion, her days must have been filled with honest pride and pleasure and love for her husband and children. That these happy years should close with anxiety, distress, poverty as her portion was because of the very importance of her husband’s position.

The causes which made for the startling contrast were slow in gathering yet when accumulated, the effects followed with rapidity. Naturally, as William Brewster settled back into his old place at the home of his boyhood, the differences he had noted between life on the Continent and in his native country made an ever recurrent impression. The word pictures he drew of vastly different scenes and manners, customs and dress found an ever ready audience and were recounted in the effort to broaden and educate his hearers. At the same time, he resumed acquaintance with college friends in other places and persuaded some to move into his locality.

During these years, the farmers found living much more difficult, owing to landlord’s selfishness who were growing richer while their tenants grew poorer, also these country people found their religious life growing more difficult. Church and State were one, and ordered its subjects’ lives from the beginning to the end; persons who did not care to be so controlled were soon made to see the error of their ways. Nevertheless, as the Bible was made accessible to more of the people from being printed in their own language, and as workers from the Continent, chiefly Holland, came to live and mix with the English, other ideas and views were taken by some, quite different from the long dominant ones of the State Church.

Enough of these persons who thought alike separated from the old Church to call themselves a new Church and held religious services among themselves at their own houses. William Brewster was the leader in his part of the country, and so many gladly followed his teachings and example that the Church tried in every way to restrain them. Brewster’s personal charm and influence, his intellect and generous spirit drew countless numbers of men and women for miles around to his home for the worship they conducted according to their ideas of right and liberty of conscience. After the service in the old Chapel of the manor house, he entertained all the company at dinner.

Just here we can see Mary Brewster, the sympathetic and charming hostess, her fair face silhouetted against the dark, age old wainscot of the refectory or dining-room, of the manor inn, surrounded by her and her husband’s early friends and those of later years, loved by them all for herself no less than as the wife of their revered leader.

These gatherings came to be held in secret, of necessity, as the members were liable to arrest for absenting themselves from the regular Church services and teaching other views. Spies were set to report their actions, and some were called before the magistrates and sent to prison. It became plain that they could not continue in that manner--uncertainty and anxiety becoming daily companions.

Queen Elizabeth died; her successor rode down from Scotland on the Great North Road and stopped with all his retinue at Scrooby. This was doubtless the last brilliant assembly that the manor saw, when the home of the Brewster’s. The people hoped for better things at his accession, but soon learned that he was to be just as hard upon them and times would be worse. Plans were made among them under the guidance of Brewster for emigration to Holland where, as he knew, there was liberty and welcome for all.

It is not difficult to realize the reluctance with which they came to this decision, to leave all their natural associations, to give up much that was dear with almost no hope of a return. Sad indeed were these days for Mary Brewster and the other women of the community who were preparing like her to part with much of their belongings, their homes and friends who could not think as they did but were cherished, notwithstanding.

“Well worthy to be magnified are they
Who with sad hearts of friends and country took
A last farewell, their loved abodes forsook,
And hallowed ground in which their fathers lay.”

* * * * *

The final summer for them in the old home passed; that each sunset brought a certain regret, each rose that bloomed a more than passing attention we may believe. Yet it seemed the best thing they could do for themselves and their children. In the place where they would make their new home others of English birth and similar experiences were already settled, having been, as they, forced to leave their own land; at least they would be welcomed by and could have intercourse and sympathy with those of their own race and country, advice and help also in the matter of the problem of living--a somewhat staring one, as they were ignorant of any solution but their own. Curiosity, too, supposed ever to be an attribute of women, might pierce their melancholy a little, and they had heard enough to wish to behold for themselves since the opportunity had come; the enthusiasm for adventure on the part of the children must have lightened the prospect as well. The pain was in giving up the dear interests, the fond associations of their lives.

Dull indeed the eye of fancy which cannot see Mary Brewster with her two little daughters coming down the stone steps of the manor house in a golden evening, to follow the path through the meadow fields towards Ryton stream and there wander on its banks, visiting favorite nooks and listening to the bird’s good night, for them seeming notes of farewell. As Experience wears ever the same dress, her mirror must reflect for each of us some such scene as this.

THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT.

THE SWORD OF THE SPIRIT.

A ship had been engaged to meet them at Boston from where these travellers were to sail. The first stage of their journey was accomplished by their arrival at that town. Since the edict that whoever did not subscribe to and uphold the State Church must leave the country, one would suppose that their proposed departure would not have been difficult, but when it was discovered how many desired to go and had so arranged, malice itself must have been the cause of the refusal of the authorities to permit it. The ship’s master then had to be well paid to consent to take them away in secret. Instead of meeting them at the appointed time in daylight, he kept them waiting until night, but they all were finally on board with their baggage. Before the ship had gotten a fair start, however, they were stopped by the port authorities who had been warned by the ship’s owner, himself. The voyagers were taken from the ship back to the town in small boats, their belongings examined and those of most value as well as all their money taken from them, the women having to undergo as thorough a search of their persons as the men, which their own chronicler speaks of with indignation. Still further embarrassment awaited these women when they were all marched through the town in the early morning and people hurried into the streets to stare at them as at a spectacle, and followed them into the court room. Here the magistrates were more favorably disposed toward them but were obliged to order their imprisonment until the Lords in Council should decide their case. After a month’s confinement, which was made only less trying and uncomfortable by the kind hearted magistrates--to their great credit--the women and children and most of the men were dismissed and sent back whence they came, by order of the Council; the more prominent men were kept till the autumn was far advanced before their freedom was granted.

The wounds to their feelings were healed by determination, and after an unexpected winter among their friends, who in vain urged the abandonment of their plans, some of them were ready to make a second attempt to accomplish their object.

Brewster and several men, especially his friend, John Robinson, made other and as they thought safer arrangements for this venture. So one bleak day at the end of the winter, the women and children, with the necessary baggage, embarked in a small boat at an inconspicuous place on the coast, and sailed out on the sea. The large boat chartered for the voyage was to await them at an appointed place near the shore, between Grimsby and Hull, and the men were to go by land to meet it and the small boat bringing their families and possessions; all were to board it, and hoping for a more trusty master of this ship before news of their plans would get to unfriendly ears, would be away.

Such good time was made by the little boat from shore to rendezvous, that it reached the appointed place before the larger ship arrived and must ride at anchor in a choppy sea. The women being unaccustomed to travel by sea were most uncomfortable, and the weather becoming worse, with the boat pitching and tossing so continuously they were driven to desperation and begged the seamen to run the boat into an inlet where the water was quiet, that they might have some rest. The men evidently compassionate, did so, but it was a most unfortunate move, though seemingly harmless. The night was spent in that strange and lonely place, while their thoughts must have been busy with questionings as to the non-arrival of the ship and the possibility of the men being arrested before they could get to them; the cold was penetrating and in their efforts to keep the children warm and quiet, the keeping up of their own courage was under long odds.

In the dimness of the dawn, they could see the ship making anchor, and on shore, their men could also be seen, so hope arose with the morning, soon to be overcast, however, when it was realized that their little boat was fast on shore, and no chance of release till the tide rose. The resourceful Dutch captain of the larger ship, endeavoring to honestly earn his money, sent his own small boat to shore to gain time by taking on the men. These activities gave the children some entertainment at least, we suppose, and they doubtless waved and called to their fathers and friends as the first boat load left shore and boarded the ship; the second trip was begun when suddenly the watchful captain saw an armed company appearing in the distance; one glance and his efforts were all in the direction of getting himself and his boat to safety, no matter who might be on it or who not on it. His sails were quickly run up, his anchor raised, notwithstanding the entreaties of the men, who also realized the situation, to send them ashore, at least, if he would not stay. The plight of the women and children, helpless onlookers of this tragic end of their plans, drove the men wellnigh frantic, both on the ship and on shore. The ship was soon out of sight, flying before a good wind, but into as great a storm as they left breaking behind.

Quick consultation among the remaining men decided who should try to escape and who would remain with the women. It was wiser that not all should be taken this time if it could be avoided. Some of them, therefore, thus leaving their friends and families in this dire situation, got safely away, though their position was no more enviable than those husbands and brothers who were taken away on the ship. No marvel that the women, even the bravest, were heartsick and in tears, with their husbands apparently lost and the children, frightened, cold and sobbing, clinging to them. But they had two or three of the men, and well could Mary Brewster be a tower of strength to most, seeing her own husband still on the shore and knowing what a rock he would be for them all to lean on.

When the company of men on horseback and on foot came to the water’s edge, where the boatload of women and the few men awaited their fate at their hands, they placed them under arrest and hurried them to the nearest town, to the court.

With their former experience in mind, they anticipated a long, dreary imprisonment; but unlooked for circumstances pleaded their cause. Each magistrate before whom they were taken in turn, with ever increasing haste, seemed anxious to shelve the responsibility of a sentence. Their case seemed so innocent and pitiable, the appearance of so many despondent women and chilled and shivering children, so appealing, that no justice could harden his heart sufficiently to imprison them, more especially when their only crime seemed to be the desire to be with their husbands, wherever they went, which was certainly a compliment to men in general. When urged to go to their homes, their reply that they had no longer any homes, capped the climax, and, fearing criticism of any harsh treatment, the magistrates were most eager to be rid of the matter on any excuse to themselves. Without realizing it, as the nerves of the women were strained to the breaking point, they certainly affected the nerves of the men, and when the judges dismissed them, finally, from sheer desperation, even the men of the company being included, it would have been hard to say which parted from the other with most pleasure.

That day’s experience, in all its misery, however, advertised them in an unimagined way, for, though they only desired an inconspicuous and quiet life, the story of their wanderings and hardships was soon talked of and many came to hear of them and consider their cause with interest and sympathy, and, indeed, led to their making new friends and gaining help later on. Nevertheless, their weariness was far from over, and, throughout that spring, Brewster and Robinson, in the face of other disappointments and difficulties, used their final resources to get the women and children and themselves out of their net of trouble.

Yet in the end their dauntless efforts were successful. Their own historian tells us that, notwithstanding, they all got away after a time and “met together again according to their desires, with no small rejoicing.”

* * * * *

This happy place of meeting and rejoicing was Amsterdam, the city of their intentions when planning to leave England. The comparing of adventures since they had been swept apart by the tumultuous circumstances of their departure must indeed have been a refreshment to their minds as the safe arrival at their destination gave rest to their bodies.

The anticipated welcome of the English people, who had already settled in the city and had churches for worship according to their several ideals, was cordial and sympathetic. We may be sure that the women of the longer residence were only too happy to show and tell of this wonderful city, to the newcomers, and that the women in whom we are especially interested would have been glad indeed that such guides and advisors should have been there to help them assimilate the countless new impressions which were next in the path of their experience. While each old friend or comparatively new acquaintance who had been of their original party at home, must have grown doubly dear by similar situation in the surrounding strangeness of this new world with all its marvels and perplexities. The contrast between the quiet existence they had led so long and the bustling, colorful life into which they were plunged, might well have dazed them for a time had not a certain sort of commotion and change attended them, in the interval, and been an unforseen preparation for steadiness in any confusion of circumstance.

We may picture Mary Brewster, an example of their steadfast purpose, meeting the new and trying conditions of poverty, a new language and different modes of living in calm cheerfulness. Love and loyalty to the men of their families would actuate every woman to do her best in making the homes these same men had now to struggle to provide. Mutual understanding and common interests were great factors in smoothing the rough places. These men, now or afterwards, never thought of going first as pioneers to provide a home for their wives and sisters to come to; they well knew that the women were the ones to make the homes for them. It was such a matter of course that the question seems never to have arisen, likewise never commented on; one of the reasons why we encounter such a scarcity of details that we would gladly read in their records.

At this time even the names of the women seem hidden as by the very secrecy of their journeyings. Later the mist clears for us somewhat. Only the figures of Mary Brewster and her young daughters, Fear and Patience, Mrs. Robinson, the pastor’s wife, and her daughters are comparatively clearly outlined in the picture we try to see just here.

Nevertheless, it was because of a woman and her clothes, especially a velvet hood, that was a prime cause of their moving from this scarcely established home; even as the long shadow of a woman had already fallen indirectly upon them in their original home and ultimately made for their departure thence.

Let us seem to be standing on the banks of a canal of Amsterdam. It is a brilliant winter afternoon and the scene is animated and full of color, for skaters are flying over the ice and spectators are watching them or walking about. Here is a group of women, there are one or two whom we recognize, at least, having seen them in England. The wife of the pastor of the Separatist Church which is seeking a home, Mrs. Robinson, and the wife of the leader of his congregation, Mrs. Brewster, with them a lady much more elaborately dressed than either of them, the wife of the pastor of the Separatist Church already established in Amsterdam, Mrs. Johnson. We feel quite sure it is she, for what is the advantage of having fine clothes if one may not wear them where many can see, on a gay afternoon in a big city especially, and has it not been a matter of indifference to her what comments are made or how nearly her husband’s church is rent asunder? These new friends are a pleasure to her since they do not criticize but only admire her appearance. Their attitude, if reflected from the male members of their party is that the style of woman’s costume is a detail, and may be according to her station, the one point being that it should be paid for.

Mrs. Johnson is probably giving her point of view of the matter and an opinion of her brother-in-law, in the controversy, which is a matter of record. Meanwhile, the eyes of the mothers see the bright faces of their children, and their voices come to them from the ice. John and Jonathan are being called to by a number of girls as they start to race to a goal.

The girls have some of their new friends with them, fair English roses like themselves, all for the present blooming together in this country of tulips--Bridget and Mercy Robinson, Fear and Patience Brewster, Jacquelin and Dorothy May, the latter, daughters of the elder of Mr. Johnson’s church. Dorothy and Patience, lighthearted children, never giving thought to the web Fate is weaving for them. Soon to part, after a brief acquaintance, but to renew it in a few years, because Dorothy is a magnet to draw back to Amsterdam the grave young man so frequently seen with her father and Mr. Brewster, at this time, and will herself leave her home there to join these friends again. And Patience is to become the wife of a man of prominence and influence just as her mother had done. These are future visions indeed, yet these two girls, as they stand side by side, are the presentment of the women (though ship and Colony were then undreamed of) causing the special designation in the title of this story.

Therefore because of the turmoil regarding Mrs. Johnson’s apparel and other matters affecting the congregation, John Robinson and William Brewster thought it wiser to remove their people from such ensuing contentions, notwithstanding it would entail the search for new employments and cause some more expense.

It was ever the Sword of the Spirit--the spirit of self-sacrifice, “whatsoever it should cost them,” to attain their cherished object, democratic religious and civil government, that led them onward, step by step, to the victory which was to be theirs.

This change of surroundings was accomplished with much less stress and strain than their former one. Their new companions in Amsterdam were sorry to have them go; while a welcome from strangers awaited them in the city of their choice.

UNDER THE LINDENS OF LEYDEN.

UNDER THE LINDENS OF LEYDEN.

The chimes from the spire of the State House rang out an evening hour. There seemed no unusual portent in this daily custom to the ear of workers in the busy city turning homewards at close of day. Yet in that hour on that calm evening of early summer, history was being made for that city, and to its honored name was added an interest for thousands of a future day by the seemingly unimportant event then taking place.

A large canal boat, one of the many that plied between Amsterdam and Leyden, was nearing its mooring at the close of the day’s trip and a number of persons were on the quay apparently awaiting its arrival. The boat was heavily ladened with freight and passengers, the household belongings and persons of a number of families. If some of the members looked a trifle anxious, all seemed happy and still interested in all to be viewed at the end of a pleasant journey that had been full of new sights for the majority. A pleasanter voyage than many had experienced within the year, and with much uncertainty and strangeness eliminated from this landing at Leyden which had harassed their arrival at Amsterdam; for these are the pilgrims from England, to whom the authorities of this city had recently given permission for residence, in reply to a petition sent in their behalf from Amsterdam, by their pastor, John Robinson.

The English were already well known in Leyden and some of this party had been there to rent houses and survey the prospect. More than casual glances were given these new arrivals, for, though evidently poor people and certainly, as yet, unknown, their appearance was distinguished even in their plain clothes of English fashion, different to the gay apparel of the natives.

The accounts of this beginning of their sojourn in a new locality are somewhat meagre, nevertheless they furnish ground for speculation and conclusions not unjustified. Our interest follows the women we already know and others whom we are soon to know, as they once more endeavor to solve the problems of home-keeping with slender resources, their characteristics of patience and courage again to the test. An admonition surely given by their beloved pastor must have dwelt in their thoughts to “stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together ... and in nothing terrified.”

The advantages of living in a prosperous, progressive and highly civilized city were not long in being realized by these women. Though, at first, their homes were in the poorer part of the city, their industry and energy supplementing that of the men, who soon found plenty of employment in the trades of the city, particularly the cloth and silk weaving, enabled them to live fairly comfortably. The markets of fish and vegetables saw them as daily customers, and even the flower market found them as occasional visitors to delight the children as well as themselves. The public schools gave to many of the children more of an education than their mothers had had; this opportunity for free knowledge, as well as the hospitals, homes for the aged, orphan asylums, were some of the marvels of this new life. Books and pictures were so moderate in price as to be available for all.

The contrasts between the conditions which tended towards the benefit and advancement of the plain people in their present home and those which were only for the benefit of the wealthy and aristocratic class in their old home were as easily seen by his companions now as they had been by William Brewster years before.

The objects above all the planning for the routine of practical life were that they might have food and comfort, peace and quiet to worship God.

They were not without news of England, for their community was constantly increased by new arrivals, who, hearing of the success of their venture, came to try the experiment themselves; some remaining as true friends and burden sharers, others returning.

Scarcely three years passed before the women had the joy of moving into attractive newly built cottages on a piece of ground in a very desirable location for their needs, bought by several of the men for all in common. All were now in good circumstances retained by continual labor, however. The nearness of the famous University was a satisfaction to the many intellectual men of the party, both to enter as students or to read in its library.

That the content of the men was reflected by the women is without doubt, for if the men in a family are fairly happy it is easy for the women to be so, and, on their own account they had reason to be lighthearted. Their cosy little houses were built at the sides of the piece of property, the center becoming a small park or community garden with sanded walks, flower bordered. The pastor’s house, at one end, was the largest and finest, for in it the Sunday services and three teaching services or lectures were held, as they had been held in the old manor house in Scrooby.

Besides their two indefatigable and honored leaders, the pastor and William Brewster, now an elder in their Church, the community was fortunate in having among them the young doctor, a widower, whose home was kept by his sister, Anna. Her self-reliant, decisive character must have been highly sympathetic and congenial to her brother. The life of Anna Fuller is one of those most discernable to us in that coterie of women, after the lapse of the long years. Tactful and clever she was, and a favorite with all. Between her and Mary Brewster there grew a warm attachment.

A friend to them both and to many others, was Katherine Carver (the wife of John Carver, a prominent and valued man of their company) whose lovely character endeared her to them, but whose chief interest in life was her husband and what concerned him.

Ann Tilly and the wife of James Chilton added to the group of these young matrons who enjoyed their quiet but not altogether uneventful lives in mutual sympathy and esteem. We must admire the smoothness with which they managed their affairs, taking into consideration the varying temperaments among them; tact and unselfishness, wisdom and charitableness must indeed have been taught them by “the grave Mistress Experience,” and not only among themselves was it observable, but also with their new, interested and friendly neighbors, the women of that Dutch city, through whom they became acquainted with its manners and customs and to feel quite familiar with them. Their children and the Dutch children soon became friends and through them the mothers of each began their knowledge of one another, to their mutual advantage. We know the pride of the native women in their city and how ready and willing they were to show its sights and relate its history to these interested strangers.

Thus we can easily fancy a party coming along Belfry Lane and through other streets on their way to visit the Burg, a promised treat to the children and desired by their elders. Ann Tilly is taking the children of her household--two little cousins and a niece--having none of her own, whom she has mothered. Mistress Chilton has with her, her daughter; Mary Brewster and her two daughters walk with Katherine Carver; Anna Fuller and the Carpenter girls--one soon to be her sister-in-law--and one or two boys, a lively party, all accompanied by some Dutch friends as guides.

Leyden was at that time full of reminders of the war with Spain, its part of it having been the great siege. Up on the Burg the country for miles around lies before them, and as they look, the story is told and they try to picture just where and how the battle was fought. Doubtless some old soldier was on the Burg, that bright afternoon, living for himself again that time of suffering and valor, and glad to recount many of the details and describe where had been a particular Spanish redoubt, or just where such a regiment had been stationed, or the location of a General’s headquarters.

We of days far from theirs are yet joined to their experiences of that afternoon of our fancy if we have chanced on a similar recital from one who had participated in another war with Spain in a very different country and setting, a war in which the descendants of some of these women had a part. From the wall of an old Spanish castle near Manila, a party of women, one of them the present writer, looked over the surrounding plain on an afternoon not many years ago, while the then American owner, their host, related just such details and anecdotes of the Philippine incident in the war with Spain, already some years in the past; there was a battery of the United States regulars; the insurgents came in here; a far glimpse of the sunlit harbor showed where Dewey’s ships lay; and so on. By such a touch does a string on the harp of life sing on through the centuries.

Coming home, they would visit the City Hall, where were then kept many mementos and relics of victory upon which they could look with wondering earnestness, feeling as we when today viewing objects closely connected with the World War, so recently in our thoughts.

* * * * *

The blossoms of the lindens fell over the grey wall enclosing the old cloister wherein the veiled nuns had walked, fell over into another garden and around other women of whom the cloistered nuns had never heard, and to whom they were but a name; lives in deepest contrast, lived in neighboring environment yet divided by a grey stone wall and many years.

At a well by the old wall several young women have gathered, some to get water for their household use, others to meet them there for a gossip--for even in the little colony of English Separatists living so quietly on their own ground, itself almost a cloister, in the gay city of Leyden there was, of course, gossip in its friendly and sociable meaning. But chat between the women only is interrupted, and apparently to their amusement, by small boys and girls all eagerness at a tale one of their number is telling of an exciting event in their school life that day; no less than the story of how the Prince’s ball fell into the canal and he took the boat hook belonging to an old woman who lived near, never thinking she would object, and fished the ball safely out. A tale with an apparently happy ending, but not so, the old woman mistaking Prince Frederick for just an everyday boy scolded him well, and when some one called out that it was the Prince who had borrowed her boat hook, she was so overcome and frightened that she ran in her house and they could not coax her out, for she said they would take her to prison.

Smiles fade as a shadow of remembrance crosses the minds of some of the listeners at prison experiences they have known, and perhaps a thought of contrast that here, in this democratic land, their children have as playmate a prince of the blood, while in their own country they might scarcely ever have seen one. A few of the young men have wandered towards the well, since evening is advancing and their day’s employments are over; here are Edward Southworth, William Bradford, Robert Cushman, William White,--and, severally, Alice Carpenter, Mary Singleton and Anna Fuller may no longer be monopolized by the children, while Patience Brewster is glad to hear of her friend in Amsterdam, Dorothy May, from William Bradford, who visits Elder May rather frequently.

In fact, news from Amsterdam was quite regularly brought by visitors as well as by those of their own company returning, since seeds of romance sown in the early days of their sojourn were bearing fruit, and engagements were so frequent that one was scarcely talked of before another came up for consideration.

Thus it was not surprising to see Samuel Fuller leaning across the half door of the Carpenter’s cottage, while Agnes, presumably waiting for Alice to return from the well, on the other side of the door, smiled at him. Not unlikely that Edward Southworth and the doctor will both be asked to supper, for the Carpenter household, with five gay, pretty girls in it was not a dull one. One of the households soonest to break away, however, from the present surroundings; after three of his daughters married, Alexander Carpenter moved the rest of his family to his old home in England. Anna Fuller noticing her brother’s absorption and knowing from rather frequent experience that he may forget about the supper she will provide for him, decides on spending the evening away from home, herself. To her neighbor and special friend, Mary Allerton, she will be a gladly welcomed guest--she who, a year ago was Mary Norris, and for whom Anna had been a witness at her marriage to Isaac Allerton. Sarah, Isaac’s sister, who lived with them, was good company also, and if Degory Priest should happen by, as was more than likely, to walk with Sarah to the weekly lecture at Pastor Robinson’s and if William White should come too, still less unlikely, she would tell him that--“yes she would marry him, when Samuel married Agnes Carpenter and was off her hands and mind.”

In this group of pilgrims there were many young men and girls, therefore many were the love tales told under the lindens and marriages frequent during their sojourn.

The Botanical Gardens at Leyden, one of the city’s proud possessions, must have held the usual charm for walks of sweethearts and wives and the men of their choice on a Sunday afternoon that seems to be evident everywhere there are Gardens, in any era and place, from Edinburgh to Hong Kong.

The annual Kermiss also witnessed many visitors from among these strangers, and the other holidays and sports came in time to be almost as familiar and enjoyable as though known in their own country.

Good health and fairly comfortable living made comparatively light hearts, among the younger set especially.

We are glad to picture these years of their life in Leyden when their industry and thrift brought them to pleasant days of living, and the cheerfulness and peace of their little community attracted visitors and favorable comments. These days were lighted by hope, a hope that they might through some fortunate possibility be able to return to their beloved England and live in the unmolested peace and independence there which they had found here.

Prosperity again found Mary Brewster, for her husband becoming a much respected teacher of languages in the University, was soon able to win a comfortable and adequate living for his family, and, as always, the Brewsters were ever ready with sympathy and help to those less well off than they; indeed one of the chief supports in this thoroughly religious body of people was their convention of mutual help and friendliness.

Mary, as well as her husband, was always available as the confidant of their neighbors, therefore a frequent witness for the young couples who went to the State House, according to the custom of the country, to declare their intentions of marriage, and we feel sure the interest did not stop there, and that she and her daughters helped with the simple festivities connected with these marriages. A member of the University was exempt from tax on homemade wines and brew, and as both were common beverages at that time, and made in all households, her wine and cooking receipts must have been frequently used.

While the history of these Pilgrims may be told, and has been, with casual if any reference to the women, the story of the women must hinge on reference to the whole Pilgrim story. Looking at them from our position, down the long vista, seeing the background of which they were hardly conscious, the foreground invisible to them, their reality and aliveness should be vividly lighted by all the colors of romance which only distance may give and we should be able to get the feeling that things had for them, at least. A few plain, loyal, trustful women living their daily lives with no dream of a place in history, yet on whom else may we look entitled to a softer, more caressing glow from the flame of fame?

Julianna Carpenter, the eldest sister, married George Morton, before the lindens bloomed again, followed soon by the marriages of Agnes to the wise and popular young doctor, the doctor’s sister to William White, as she had said, and the lively young widow, Sarah, sister of Isaac Allerton, to Degory Priest. Their mutual satisfaction and happiness was punctured by the shock of the sudden death of one of their number, Agnes Fuller; the whole community was stirred by the fact that so unexpectedly, the doctor was again a widower. Thus their recurring measure of joy and sorrow, pleasure and trouble, success and endeavor.

We may well hope that, in the fullness of time, our days may be looked upon with the same search-light of sympathy and understanding which we turn upon theirs.

Another year more wedded couples were added to the list--it was a sign of their hopefulness that marriage among them was encouraged and the remarriage of the widowed favored. Alice Carpenter married Edward Southworth and William Bradford brought his bride from Amsterdam, Dorothy May. It was in the late autumn that she came to Leyden to renew some childhood’s friendships. The marriage of another friend of Alice Southworth occurred at a slightly later date when Robert Cushman married Mary Singleton. So these younger and important men of the settlement took on new responsibilities, and after a while Dr. Fuller tried a third time and found with Bridget Lee a more permanent happiness in matrimony.

The very little girls, as the years passed, were replaced by others, while they grew into the places of maidenhood left vacant by the younger matrons. Thus Mary Chilton, Bridget Robinson, Priscilla Mullins, Patience and Fear Brewster, Desire Minter, Humility Cooper, formed a lively group in which Elizabeth Tilly and Mercy Robinson claimed membership though somewhat younger.

The famous storks of Holland were good enough to bring many rosy babies to the little homes of this English colony, so the joy and amusement of babyhood was never lacking.

Into this little world a passing traveller entered, a young man of some wealth and position in England, who having heard of the community, thought to look upon it as of transient interest, and desiring to meet William Brewster, John Robinson and others whose writings printed by their own established press were attracting attention. In truth he was more interested in the printing press than the writings, being reputed himself a printer, and as a worker in one art or trade or profession desires to see the results or products of another in that same class, Edward Winslow entered the life of the Brewsters, the Robinsons, the Allertons, the Bradfords, but most particularly into the life of Elizabeth Barker, and since it was her world it became his, too, henceforth. Almost the last romance of these peaceful years witnessed by the lindens and the old grey wall.