The Landing of the Pilgrims Read online

  Leyden was called, by the many who loved her, the fairest and most civilized city in the world. It was a prosperous city too, and there the strangers soon found employment as weavers, hatters, printers, carpenters and craftsmen in a dozen other trades. Their pay was usually small and their hours long, but in time they were able to buy a large house for their pastor in Bell Alley near the cathedral. A plot of land was purchased, and houses for the church members were built around a quiet court.

  This colony became a peaceful bit of England planted in a corner of the friendly Dutch city. Here they welcomed other English refugees to the freedom and peace of their new home, and the congregation grew in number and strengthened in faith. Their wise and loving Pastor John Robinson became a father to them, and his congregation grew in grace and mutual love.

  Elder Brewster taught English in the University. It was a popular course, and he was able to provide comfortably for his wife and three children.

  Young Bradford became a maker of corduroy. As he prospered, he courted and married Dorothy May of Wisbeach, England. Their wedding took place at the Leyden city hall. According to the Separatists, marriage was performed by the magistrates and not by the Church.

  Soon Bradford could speak Dutch like a Hollander, and French like—well, he could manage it somehow. He became a good Latin and Greek scholar and loved to study Hebrew with the hope that someday he would be able to read the Bible in the original tongue. He made many friends among the hospitable Hollanders and became a Dutch citizen.

  On peaceful Sundays, Bradford and the other English exiles walked along brick-paved streets under the delicate linden trees that bordered the quiet Razenbutts Canal. They marveled at the great cathedral and the handsome Stadhouse. Prosperous Dutch burghers and their wives strolled by dressed in silks and fine linen.

  Sometimes, through open doorways, the Scrooby folk caught glimpses of richly furnished rooms where a silk-clad girl strummed a mandolin. On the floors were rich Turkish carpets and on the walls were hangings, engraved maps, or pictures of calm merchants in sober black. Dutch kitchens gleamed with pots and pans of polished copper, and tables were piled with fruit from the market stalls along the Rhine.

  One Sunday afternoon Bradford stopped before a bookshop window to study curious prints picturing the customs of the natives of Florida and Virginia. The pictures were in a book of voyages newly published by the engraver Theodore de Bry.

  Every one of the exiles found something to love in this friendly city, and to the English boys and girls it soon became home. They learned to sing and dance at the rollicking Dutch Kermess, or harvest festival. In winter they strapped on their curved wooden skates and flew over the ice outside the city walls.

  The Press

  No one knew better than the scholarly Brewster the power of the printed word to influence the minds of men. He had long dreamed of a printing press to spread the true religion as the Separatists saw it. In England presses must be licensed and all printing was censored by the King and the Bishop.

  When Elder Brewster became used to the free air of Leyden, he realized that this was the place to start his press. For it, his friend Mr. Brewer provided the money. Soon Separatists’ tracts and pamphlets from Brewster’s press were being smuggled into England and secretly circulated.

  King James was especially annoyed at two pamphlets that denounced the Perth Assembly. (At this Assembly of Scotch clergymen, the King had attempted to compel them to conform to the Church of England and its practices.) It was known that these books were being smuggled in from Holland, and the King’s spies were searching Amsterdam and Leyden for the secret press, and particularly for the person of Mr. Brewster.

  The will of King James was almost as powerful in Holland as in England, for English troops had long fought in the Lowlands (for a price), aiding the Dutch against the Spanish. Because of this, it was not long before the authorities at Leyden quietly closed down Mr. Brewster’s printing press. But Mr. Brewster himself was nowhere to be found. The truth is that he was on a secret mission to his old home in Scrooby.

  There he was discussing with his old friend and landlord, Sir Edwin Sandys, the Separatists’ plans to seek a new home.

  Brewster realized that no time must be lost in seeking another place to live, for Holland’s twelve-year peace treaty with Spain was drawing to a close. The English exiles at Leyden would soon find themselves in a country torn by war.

  Furthermore, new problems had appeared. The King’s spies were again hounding the Separatist leaders. And the Separatists’ children were growing up barely remembering old England. Some had married Dutch girls and boys. Others had gone to sea on the Dutch ships that sailed to the distant East Indies. Their sons joined the Dutch army as musketeers and were marching in cutlass and helmet through the streets of Leyden to the sound of drum and trumpet, prepared for war.

  Few Hollanders had been converted to the Separatist Church. On the contrary, there was a real danger of the whole English colony becoming slowly absorbed into Dutch life. The Separatists treasured and valued their mother tongue and English nationality second only to their religion. It was becoming plain that the only place where they could still remain Englishmen and keep their freedom of worship was across the ocean in the wilderness of America.

  William and Dorothy Bradford spoke of these things as they sometimes walked along the ancient walls of Leyden in the quiet evening.

  “Why can we not stay among our friends in this peaceful city?” urged Dorothy. “Sometime things will change, perhaps, and we can go back to the old home in England. Why should we be forever moving on?”

  “Things will grow worse in England, not better,” William replied. “As the King forces his will upon the people, there will be no more freedom in England.

  “America is the promised land,” he went on. “There we can found a new state where freedom-loving men may come. The Word of God will be a shining light to all the world. We shall build the New Jerusalem, and the kings of the earth shall bring their glory and honor into it.”

  For the moment Dorothy was caught in the fervor of his words. She knew that he would go and that she would go with him. Yet in her dreams, England would always be calling her back to a peaceful garden and a quiet street and the spring wind blowing over the flower-strewn meadows.

  William and Dorothy were not the only people who were divided on the question of going to America. Never had there been such discussion and argument since the English had come to Leyden. Everyone took sides in the matter of leaving Holland for America. Those who were against it spoke of the dangers and great length of the sea voyage, the sufferings from famine and want in the savage wilderness. When it came to the Indian perils, they really let their imaginations go and described in detail what it felt like to be skinned, broiled, and eaten by the savages. Besides all these unpleasantnesses, it would cost a great deal more than any of them could afford.

  Bradford replied for those who were determined to go:

  “All great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties; and must be both enterprised and overcome with answerable courages. It was granted the dangers were great, but not desperate; the difficulties were many, but not invincible. For though there were many of them likely, yet they were not certain. It might be that sundry of the things feared might never befall; others, by provident care and the use of good means, might in a great measure be prevented; and all of them, through the help of God, by fortitude and patience, might either be borne or overcome.”

  The words glowed with faith and vision and an unbeatable courage to build a brave free world. As always before great decisions, there was a day of prayer by the congregation. When the vote was taken according to their democratic custom, the majority were for going to the New World, for moving on, for the great adventure.

  There were now many more decisions to be made and much to be done. Just where they should go, and how many of them should go, were serious questions. While the King’s agents were looking for hi
m in Holland, Mr. Brewster was in England with his friend Sir Edwin Sandys, urging him to persuade the King to grant them freedom of religion in America.

  Those in Leyden who were going to the New World sold their property. Funds were raised. A ship named the Speedwell was ordered to be fitted and provisioned. Then it was to await their embarkation at Delfthaven.

  Among the friends of those about to sail in the Speedwell was a Mr. Weston, a British merchant of enterprise. When he had heard of their intentions to go to America, he had come to Leyden. Mr. Weston offered to form a company of merchant adventurers, in which all would have shares. The Adventurers, as the merchants were called, would provide what funds were needed for the trip and would send the colony supplies.

  In return, the plantation in America would ship back fish, furs, and any other products of the New World that would be of profit to the company. At the end of seven years the profits would be divided among the shareholders. After much discussion of details, a seven-year contract with terms agreeable to all was signed by the agents of both parties in London.

  Already the Dutch had offered the Leyden Separatists free transportation to the Island of Manhattan on the Hudson River and a cow for each family, if they would settle there. But they wanted to remain British subjects wherever they might go, and so refused.

  Delfthaven Farewell

  (August 1620)

  The wind was fair and the tide was at the flood. On the main deck of the Speedwell the Separatists and their friends knelt with streaming eyes. Mr. Robinson was not going on this trip, but he led them in prayer. Tenderly they gazed into the faces of their loved ones who were remaining behind. They might never meet again. “Good-bye, good-bye, dear hearts, until we meet again.”

  The last friend had gone ashore. The mate shouted his orders. The hawsers were cast off. Slowly the ship moved from the dock, a few feet, a few yards. She was under way. Along the ship’s rail the travelers stood waving farewell. The figures on the quay diminished and blurred. Sharply, a volley of muskets and a salute of three guns rang out from the ship. Soon she was out on the broad waters of the River Maas. Shortly they had passed the Hook, westward bound for England. In four days they would reach Southampton.

  From the Speedwell’s deck, Dorothy and William Bradford watched the low shore line dropping behind. Memory-pictures of the good years crowded their thoughts. Warm-hearted, liberal Holland, hospitable Leyden, the peaceful homes in Bell Alley, their genial Dutch neighbors, so courteous and understanding through twelve pleasant years, all blended in a colored mist of affectionate remembrance.

  Steadily the ship drove westward before the wind, and those aboard turned their thoughts toward the future. All told, there were thirty-three of the Leyden congregation who had volunteered for the great adventure. If they succeeded, Mr. Robinson and the others would join them in the new land. Among the pilgrims were the stoutest pillars of their church, Brewster, Bradford, Winslow, Carver, Allerton, and their surgeon, Samuel Fuller. Come good or ill, these could be counted as steadfast rock.

  Already their situation was complicated with difficulties and delays. At Southampton they found their agent Cushman waiting. He had agreed with the merchants’ demands to make certain changes in their contract.

  These new conditions the Separatists would not accept. They would not agree to terms that bound them to what was practically slavery for seven years. Afterward they would have to divide their lands and properties with the merchants. They had agreed to work four days every week for the company. Cushman now said the merchants insisted that they must work six days a week for the company for a seven-year period. For this the merchants were to furnish them with sufficient supplies of food, clothing, tools, and trading goods for Indian barter.

  Aboard the Mayflower

  (August 1620)

  At Southampton the one-hundred-and-eighty-ton ship Mayflower rode at anchor. Provisioned and ready to sail, she had been awaiting the arrival of the Speedwell for a week. Awaiting it too was Mr. Weston, who had come down from London to urge and argue that the Speedwell’s passengers sign the new terms with the merchant adventurers. The Pilgrims again firmly refused. Mr. Weston left them in a rage, refusing to make any more payments. There was a port charge of one hundred pounds still to be paid. They sold their surplus firkins of butter to raise this amount.

  Sixty-seven passengers from England were now added to the thirty-three from Leyden. Only nine of the company were over forty years of age. Winslow was twenty-five, Bradford thirty-one, and Standish thirty-six. There were thirty-nine boys and girls under age.

  Captain John Smith of Virginia fame had sent a message to them offering his services. They had already hired Captain Miles Standish, a veteran of the lowland wars, to be their military commander.

  Captain Standish was aboard ship now. He was a short, broad man with his long rapier hung at his side. He was seeing that the muskets and ammunition were properly stored in the ship’s gun room.

  Among the Londoners, Stephen Hopkins was helping stow the baggage between decks. His wife and two children were chatting with the Mullins family.

  Young Priscilla Mullins and her little brother were talking to a young London cooper named John Alden. “Is it really true that the savages broil and eat English children?” asked Priscilla.

  Like the rest of the Pilgrims, John had heard fearful tales about the Indians. He didn’t know if they were true or not, but he spoke bravely and did his best to comfort Priscilla.

  A rough-looking Mr. Billington and his wife were warning their two mischievous boys not to touch the muskets.

  When all was ready for the departure, Mr. Brewster called the congregation together and read them Mr. Robinson’s letter of counsel and farewell. Then with full hearts and brave hopes they knelt and prayed:

  “They that go down to the sea in ships, and that do business in great waters, those see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. He maketh the storm calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so He bringeth them to their desired haven. Oh, that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!”

  As the Speedwell and the Mayflower moved seaward, Bradford felt deeply relieved. He had watched anxiously each day. He feared lest the King’s soldiers and the Bishops’ spies might at the last minute appear and drag them off to jail.

  As the shores of England dropped under the horizon, he remembered his boyhood dreams of sea voyaging. Now he was outward bound for freedom. The Mayflower was nosing westward into the green Atlantic.

  Suddenly the mate called to Captain Jones, who was talking with Elder Brewster at the half-deck rail. “The lookout reports the Speedwell has put out distress signals, sir,” the mate warned.

  At once the Mayflower shortened sail and the Speedwell overtook her. Master Reynolds of the Speedwell reported that his ship was leaking badly. There was nothing to do but make for the nearest port. At Dartmouth, the Speedwell was overhauled from stem to stern and all leaks mended.

  Again a fair wind filled their sails. The two ships steadily drove westward for some three hundred miles. Again the Speedwell signaled distress. Master Reynolds reported that she was taking on water so fast that the pumps could barely keep her afloat. The two ships put back to Plymouth. No leaks were found in the Speedwell but the captains concluded she was overmasted and unseaworthy.

  It was suspected that Reynolds had done this deliberately because he and the crew did not really want to go to America. Afterward, when she was properly fitted, the Speedwell proved to be a good ship. Again the harassed Pilgrims changed their plans. They would send the Speedwell back to London and go on in the Mayflower with what passengers and supplies they could take on from the smaller ship.

  Mr. Cushman, the agent, and some twenty of the most disheartened of the passengers returned to London. Precious time and money had been lost. Provisions had been used up, and it seemed that every possible trouble and discouragement had ar
isen to block their way. September had arrived. Worst of all, winter would be upon them by the time they reached the shores of Virginia.

  Dorothy Bradford was discouraged to the point of tears, but William put his arm around her shoulder and said, quoting Master Brewster’s words: “It is not with us as with other men whom small things can discourage, or small discontentments cause to wish themselves at home again.”

  These would be good words for him to recall in the dark times that might come. They had a comforting sound for men plowing westward through perilous seas toward unknown shores. The phrases had a rhythm for swinging axes and feet marching through mountain passes and across thirsty plains in unknown lands. The words had a lift of heart for idealists seeking liberty, justice, and brotherhood in the heart of darkness.

  Part 2

  Between Two Worlds

  (1620-1621)

  How Master Christopher Jones Brought the Mayflower Across the Vast and Furious Ocean Through Many and Divers Perils and Came upon Cape Cod

  (September–November 1620)

  Up came the dripping anchor as the sailors spun the capstan to the rhythm of a rousing chanty.

  The Mayflower slowly swung about, and her sails filled with the light breeze. There was a waving of hats and scarfs. The rugged shore line faded into a blue smudge on the horizon. The ship dipped and rose as her brown sails tugged and billowed in the spanking breeze.

  Hungry-eyed, the Mayflower’s passengers lingered at the rail, feeding on the last sight of old England. One by one with tear-wet cheeks they turned away to the immediate crowded life and routine of shipboard.

  Exploring youngsters were hauled out of the rigging and warned away from the ship’s rails by scolding mothers. Sleeping quarters were assigned below decks and in the after cabins, and the routine of feeding a hundred passengers three times a day began. Seasick landlubbers gradually got their sea legs to navigate the rhythmic rise and fall of the ship’s decks.