Read Mary of Plymouth: A Story of the Pilgrim Settlement Page 3


  Many days afterward I heard that the captain went supperless to bedthat day, and when I charged him with having given to me what he neededfor himself, he laughed heartily, as if it were a rare joke, sayingthat old soldiers like himself had long since learned how to buckletheir belts more tightly, thus causing it to seem as if their stomachswere full.

 

  A firm friend is Captain Standish, and God was good in that he was sentwith us on the _Mayflower_.

  It was when our troubles were heaviest, that Sarah came to my homebecause her mother was taken sick, and Mistress Bradford, who wentthere to do what she might as nurse, told Sarah to stay in some otherhouse for a time.

  THE FIRST SAVAGE VISITOR

  We two were standing just outside the door of my home, breaking twigsto be used for brightening the fire in the morning, when suddenly areal savage, the first I had ever seen, dressed in skins, with manyfeathers on his head, came into the village crying:

  "Welcome English!"

  Women and children, all who were able to do so, ran out to see him,the first visitor we had had in Plymouth. His skin was very much darkerthan ours, being almost brown, and, save for the color, one might havebelieved him to be a native of Scrooby dressed in outlandish fashion totake part in some revel.

 

  Father was the more surprised because of hearing him speak in ourlanguage, than because of his odd dress; but we afterward learned thathe had met, two or three years before, some English fishermen, and theyhad taught him a few words.

  Very friendly he was, so much so that when he put his hand on my headI was not afraid, and I myself heard him talking with Master Brewster,during which conversation he spoke a great many Indian words, and somein English that I could understand.

  His name was Samoset, and after he had looked around the village,seeming to be surprised at the manner in which our houses of logswere built, he went away, much to my disappointment, for I had hoped,without any reason for so doing, that he might give me a feather fromthe splendid headdress he wore.

  As I heard afterward, he promised to come back again, and when, sixdays later, he did so, there was with him another Indian, one who couldtalk almost the same as do our people. His was a strange story, or soit seemed to me, so strange and cruel that I wondered how he could befriendly with us, as he appeared to be, because of having suffered somuch at the hands of people whose skins were white.

  Squanto had been a member of the same tribe that owned the land whereour village of Plymouth was built, and his real name, so GovernorBradford says, is Squantum.

  SQUANTO'S STORY

  Seven years before the _Mayflower_ came, he had been stolen by oneCaptain Hunt, who had visited these shores on a fishing voyage, andby him was sent to Spain and sold as a slave. There a good Englishmansaw him and bought him of his master. He was taken to London, wherehe worked as a servant until an exploring party, sent out by SirFerdinando Gorges, was about to set sail for this country, when he wasgiven passage.

  While he had been in slavery, the dreadful sickness broke out, whichkilled or drove away all his people; therefore, when the poor fellowcame back, he found none to welcome him.

  How it was I cannot say, but in some way he wandered about until comingamong the tribe of Indians called the Wampanoags, where he lived untilSamoset happened to come across him.

  As soon as he knew that we of Plymouth were English people, he had adesire to be friendly, because of what the good Englishman had done forhim.

  I have heard father say many times that but for Squanto, perhaps allof us might have died during that terrible winter when the good Lordtook fifty of our company, which numbered, when we left England, but anhundred and two.

  LIVING IN THE WILDERNESS

  You must know that in this land everything is different from what yousee in England. Of course the trees are the same; but oh, so many ofthem! We are living now, even after our homes have been made, in thevery midst of the wilderness, and in that winter time when Squanto andSamoset came to us, bringing the corn we needed so sorely, we were muchlike prisoners, for the snow was piled everywhere in great drifts.

 

  The trees, growing thickly over the ground, save where they had beencut down to build our homes and to provide us with wood for the fires,prevented all, except such of the men as were well enough to go outwith their guns in the hope of shooting animals that could be eaten asfood, from going abroad, save from one house to the other.

  And little heart had we for leaving the shelter of our homes. In nearlyevery house throughout the village was there sickness or death; thecold was piercing, and, however industriously we had worked fillingthe cracks between the logs with clay, the wind came through in manyplaces, so that for the greater part of the time we needed to hugclosely to the fire lest we freeze to death.

  There were days when it seemed indeed as if the Lord had forgotten us;when, with the hunger, and the cold, and the sickness on every hand, itwas as if we had been abandoned by our Maker.

  THE FRIENDLY INDIANS

  With the coming of Samoset and Squanto, however, although the illnesswas not abated, and one after another of our company died, it seemed,perhaps only to us children, as if things were changed. These Indianswere the only two persons in all the great land who were willing totake us by the hand and do whatsoever they might to cheer, and becauseof this show of kindness did we feel the happier.

  Squanto, as father has said again and again, did very much to aid.First he showed our people how to fish, and this may seem strange toyou, for the English had used hooks and lines many years before the NewWorld was dreamed of; yet, it is true that the savages could succeed,even without proper tackle, better than did our people.

  Squanto showed father how, by treading on the banks of the brooks, toforce out the eels which had buried themselves in the mud during thecold weather, and then taught him how to catch them with his hands, sothat many a day, when there was nothing whatsoever in our home to eat,we hunted for eels, boiling rather than frying them, because the littlestore of pork was no longer fit to cook with.

 

  Another thing which Squanto did that was wondrously helpful, was toteach us how to grind this Indian corn, Guinny wheat, or Turkie wheat,which ever it should be called, for none of us seemed to know which wasthe right name for it. The wheat that we found among the Indian gravescould be made ready for the table, as we believed, only by boiling it afull day, and then it was not pleasing to the taste. But when Squantocame, he explained that it should be pounded until it was like untoa coarse flour, when it might be made into a pudding that, eaten withsalt, is almost delicious.

  GRINDING THE CORN

  When I heard him telling father that it must be ground, I said tomyself that we were not like to know how it might taste, for thereis not a single mill in this land; but Squanto first cut a large treedown, leaving the stump a full yard in height. Then, by building a fireon the stump, scraping away with a sharp rock the wood as fast as itwas charred, he made a hollow like unto a hole, and so deep that onemight put in half a bushel of this Turkie wheat.

 

  From another portion of the tree he shaped a block of wood to fitexactly the hole in the stump, and this he fastened to the top of ayoung, slender tree, when even we children knew that he had made amortar and pestle, although an exceeding rude one.

  We had only to pull down the heavy block with all our strength uponthe corn, thus bruising and crushing it, when the natural spring of theyoung tree would pull it up again. In this way did we grind our Guinnywheat until it was powdered so fine that it might be cooked in a fewmoments.

  A VISIT FROM MASSASOIT

  One day Samoset, Squanto, and three other savages came into ournew village of Plymouth, walking very straight and putting on suchappearance of importance that I followed them as they went to the verycenter of the settlement, for it seemed to me that something strangewas about to happen, as indeed proved to be the case.

 

  The Indians had com
e to tell our governor that their king, or chief,was in the forest close by, having in mind to visit the Englishmen, andasked if he should enter the village.

  I was so busy looking at the feathers and skins which these messengerswore that I did not hear what reply Captain Standish made, for he itwas who had been called upon by Governor Carver to make answer; butpresently a great throng of savages, near sixty I was told, could beseen through the trees as they marched straight toward us.

  Then my heart really stood still, as I saw Master Winslow walkingout to meet them, with a pot of strong water in his hand; but CaptainStandish said I need not be afraid, as he was only going to greet thechief of the Indians, carrying the strong water, three knives, a copperchain, an earring, and somewhat in the way of food.

  It seemed like woeful waste to give that which was of so much value toa savage, but Captain Standish said it would be well if we could gainthe favor of this powerful Indian even at the expense of all the mostprecious of our belongings.

  A brave show did the savages make as they came into the village,marching one after the other! The feathers were of every color, andin such quantity it seemed as if all the birds in the world could notyield so many, even though every one was plucked naked. And the furs!The chief, whose name is Massasoit, wore over his shoulders a mantleso long that it dragged on the snow behind him, and he had belts andchains of what looked to be beads; but Captain Standish told me it waswhat the Indians called wampum, and served them in the place of money.

 

  Governor Carver stood at the door of Elder Brewster's house, which asyet had no roof, and beckoned for the chief and those who followed him,to enter. Inside were Mistress Carver's rug and mother's two cushions,which had been laid on the ground for the savage to sit on, and greatlydid I fear that all those precious things would be spoiled before thevisit was come to an end.

  I cannot tell you what was said or done, for neither Sarah nor I couldget inside Master Brewster's house, so crowded was it with the men ofour village and with savages. More than half of those who had come withthe chief were forced to remain outside, because of there not beingspace for all within the walls. Sarah and I had our fill of looking atthem; but never one gave the slightest attention to us. It seemed muchas if they believed their station was so high that it would be beneaththeir dignity to speak with children.

  MASSASOIT'S PROMISE

  The savages and our people were long in the half-built house, and bothSarah and I wondered what could be going on to take up so much time,more especially since we knew that, of the Indians, only Samoset andSquanto could speak in English. Later we came to understand that thischief, Massasoit, was making a bargain with the men of Plymouth.

  My father called it a treaty, which, so mother explained to me, is thesame as an agreement between two nations.

  Massasoit, being the ruler over all the Indians nearby our village,promised that neither he nor any of his tribe should do any manner ofharm to us of Plymouth; but if any wicked ones did work mischief, theyshould be sent to our governor to be punished.

  He promised also that if anything was stolen by his people from us, hewould make sure it was sent back, and if, which is by no means likely,any of us living in Plymouth took from the Indians aught of theirproperty, our governor should send it straightway to the savages.

 

  Massasoit said that if any Indians came to fight or kill our people,he would send some of his men to help us, and if any tried to hurt hispeople, our fathers must take sides with him. Both Sarah and I thinkthis is wrong, for why should Englishmen fight for the savages?

  It seems to me much as if the white men should not agree to go to warwith any except those who try to kill us; but father said it was nomore than a fair trade.

  All this was agreed to while Elder Brewster's house was so full ofvisitors and our people, that they must have been packed together likeherring in a box, and when the bargain, or treaty, had been made, allthe savages, except Samoset and Squanto, marched away.

  Soon after Massasoit had gone, his brother, Quadequina, and severalmore Indians appeared, and we entertained them also.

  It was much like a feast day, to have so many people in this newvillage of ours that all the space beneath the trees seemed to becrowded, and we felt quite lonely when our fathers took up once morethe work of building houses.

  MASSASOIT'S VISIT RETURNED

  Next day Captain Standish and Master Allerton went to call uponMassasoit, and I was so frightened that I trembled when they marchedaway, for it seemed to me as if some harm would be done them in thesavage village.

 

  They came back at nightfall, none the worse for having been soventuresome, and what do you think they brought as a present from thechief? A few handfuls of nuts such as grow in the ground, and manyleaves of a plant called tobacco, which these savages burn in a queerlittle stone vessel at the end of a long, hollow reed, by putting thereed in their mouths, and sucking the smoke through to keep the herbalight.

  This ended our round of pleasure, the first we had had for many a longday, and once more we trembled before the sickness which was destroyingso many of our people.

  THE BIG HOUSE BURNED

  It was yet winter when we met with a sad loss, for the Common House,as we called it, when speaking of that first building which was put upthat all of us might have a shelter on shore while the dwellings werebeing built, took fire, and much of it was burned. Father believesthat the logs in the fireplace had been piled too high, because of theweather's being so very cold, and thus the flames came directly uponthe chimney and the backbar, kindling all into a blaze.

  It was most mournful to see next morning, the blackened, smolderinglogs of our first house which had served as a shelter less than onemonth, and mother says it was a warning to us that even our own homesare in danger of being speedily destroyed, unless the chimneys can beso built as to resist fire.

  THE "MAYFLOWER" LEAVES PORT

  All was excitement in this little village when our people began to makeready for sending the _Mayflower_ home. She had been lying at anchorclose by the shore, giving shelter to them as were yet without homes,and affording a timely place of refuge when the Common House was partlyburned; but our fathers had decided that she could no longer be keptidle. It was much like breaking the last ties which bound us to the oldhomes in England, when the time had been set for her to go back.

 

  Sarah and I could have no part in making the _Mayflower_ ready forsailing, since we were only two girls who were of no service or aid;but we watched the sailors as they came and went from the shore,wishing, oh so fervently! that we and those we loved might remain inthe vessel which had brought us so safely across the wide ocean.

  During such time as we were forced to remain on board of her becauseof having no other place of shelter, she seemed all too small for ourcomfort, and we rejoiced at being able to leave her; but when it wasknown that she was going back to our old homes, where were all ourfriends, save those who had come to this new world with us, it was muchlike starting anew.

  Sarah and I stood with our arms around each other as she sailed out ofthe harbor, while all the people were gathered on the shore to wish hera safe voyage, and I know that my cheeks were wet with tears as I sawher disappearing in the east, leaving us behind.

  That night father prayed most fervently for all on board, that theymight have a safe and speedy passage, and it was to me as if I hadparted at the mouth of the grave with some one who was very dear to me.

  Then were we indeed alone amid the huge trees, surrounded by wildbeasts and savage Indians, and the sickness was yet so great among us,that I wondered if God had really forgotten that we had come to thisnew world in order to worship him as we had been commanded?

  SETTING THE TABLE

  I often ask myself what you of Scrooby would say could you see us atdinner. We have no table, and boards are very scarce and high in pricehere in this new village of ours, therefore father saved carefully thetop of one o
f our packing boxes, while nearly all in the settlement didmuch the same, and these we call table boards.

  A Wooden Trencher Bowl]

  When it is time to serve the meal, mother and I lay this board acrosstwo short logs; but we cover it with the linen brought from the oldhome, and none in the plantation, not even the governor himself, hasbetter, as you well know.

  I would we had more dishes; but they are costly, as even you at homeknow. Yet our table looks very inviting when it is spread for a feast,say at such times as Elder Brewster comes.

  Vessels of Gourds]

  We have three trencher bowls, and another larger one in which all thefood is placed. Then, in addition to the wooden cups we brought fromhome, are many vessels of gourds that we have raised in the garden, andfather has fashioned a mold for making spoons, so that now our pewterware, when grown old with service, can be melted down into spoons untilwe have a goodly abundance of them.

 

  It is said, although I have not myself seen it, that a table implementcalled a fork, is in the possession of Master Brewster, having beenbrought over from England. It is of iron, having two sharp points madeto hold the food.

  I cannot understand why any should need such a tool while they havetheir own cleanly fingers, and napkins of linen on which to wipe them.Perhaps Master Brewster was right when he said that we who are comeinto this new world for the single reason of worshiping God as weplease, are too much bound up in the vanities of life, and father sayshe knows of no more vain thing than an iron tool with which to holdone's food.