Mary of Plymouth: A Story of the Pilgrim Settlement

by George Bird Grinnell

  There were thirty or forty of these savages, but as soon as our menfired upon them, they speedily disappeared. Our men then picked up thearrows, some of which were fashioned with heads of brass or eagles'claws.

  No one was hurt by these weapons, although one of them passed throughfather's coat, and many were found sticking in the logs. Then ourpeople gave solemn thanks to God because of having been saved from thesavage foe, and afterward gathered up many of the arrows to be sentback to England, that our friends there might see what were the dangersto be met with in the woods of this new world.

 

  Five long, dreary days went by before the company came back once more,and then we were made happy by being told that a place for our villagehad been found. It was a long distance from where the _Mayflower_ layat anchor; and on the next morning another great storm came up, whichforced us to stay on board the vessel until the fifteenth of December,when we set sail, and Sarah and I hugged each other fervently, for atlast did it appear as if we could begin to make our homes.

  Even then we were forced to stay in the _Mayflower_ yet longer, forafter we were come into the bay where it had been said we should live,the men spent a long while choosing a place in which to build thehouses.

  BUILDING HOUSES

  It was agreed to build first one large house of logs, where we couldall live until each man had chosen a place for himself, and both Sarahand I were on shore, standing almost knee-deep in the snow on thattwenty-fifth of December, as we watched the men hew down trees, trimoff the branches, and dig in the frozen ground to set up the firstdwelling in this strange land.

 

  The first thing done was to build a high platform, where the cannonthat had been brought from England could be placed, so that the savagesmight be beaten off if they came to do us harm, and then the big housewas begun.

  Of course we women and children were forced to go back on board thevessel while the work was being done, and very slowly was it carriedon, because of the cold's being so great, and the storms so many, thatour people could not work out of doors long at a time.

  Our village was begun in the midst of the forest not very far from theseashore, where had been huts built by the savages; and because of theIndians having chosen that place in which to live, our people believedit would be well for them to make there the town which was to be calledPlymouth, since it was from Plymouth in England that we had started onthe voyage which ended in this wild place.

  When mother asked father why the men did not search longer, instead offixing upon a spot to which the savages might come back at any moment,he told her that much time must be spent in building houses, and not anhour should be wasted. They ought to get on shore as soon as possiblein order to begin hunting, for the food we had on the _Mayflower_was by this time so poor that neither Sarah nor I could swallow thesmallest mouthful with any pleasure.

  Sarah and I were eager to be living on dry land once more, where wecould move about as we pleased; for, large though the _Mayflower_ hadseemed to us when we first went on board, there was little room for allour company, and very many were grown so sick that they could not getout on deck even when the sun shone warm and bright.

  There were nineteen plots for houses laid out in all, because of thecompany's being divided into nineteen families. The plots were on twosides of a way running along by a little brook, where, so I heard myfather say, one could get sweet fresh water to drink. It was decidedthat each man should build his own house.

  The plot of land where father was to build our house was quite near thebay, but yet so far in among the trees as to be shaded from the sun inthe summer, while Master Carver, who was chosen to be our governor, wasto build his only a short distance away.

  MILES STANDISH

  You must know that Captain Standish is not of the same faith as arewe. He calls himself a "soldier of fortune," which means that he isready to do battle wherever it seems as if he could strike a blow forthe right. He, and his wife Rose, became friendly with us while we wereat Leyden, for he was, although an Englishman, a captain in one of theHolland regiments, having enlisted in order to help the Dutch in theirwars.

  Because of liking a life of adventure, and also owing to the factthat he and his wife had become warm friends with Elder Brewster andmy parents, Captain Standish declared that he would be our soldier,standing ever ready to guard us against the wild beasts, or thesavages, if any should come to do us harm. Right gallantly has he kepthis promise, and unless he had been with us this village of ours mighthave been destroyed more than once, and, perhaps, those of our peoplewhose lives God had spared would have gone back to Holland or England,ceasing to strive for a foothold in this new world which is so desolatewhen covered with snow and ice.

  A most kindly-hearted man is Captain Standish, and yet there are timeswhen he has but slight control over his temper. Like a flash of powderwhen a spark falls upon it, he flares up with many a harsh word, andwoe betide those against whom he has just cause for anger.

  Swords of Captain Standish]

 

  After coming to know him for one who strove not to control his tonguein moments of wrath, the Indians gave him the name of "Little pot thatsoon boils over," which means that his anger can be aroused quickly. Heis not small, neither is he as tall as my father or Elder Brewster; butthe savages spoke of him as "little," measuring him, I suppose, withmany others of our people.

  We had not been long in Plymouth, however, before the Indiansunderstood what a valiant soldier he is, and then they began to callhim "Strong Sword."

  THE SICK PEOPLE

  It was yet very cold while our fathers were putting up the houses,and the sickness increased, so that at one time before the women andchildren could go on shore, nearly one half of our company were unableto sit up. All the while the food was very bad, save when more basketsof Indian corn were found.

  One evening, when father had come on board the vessel after workingvery hard on our house, I heard him say to mother that we must tryto be cheerful, praying to God that the sickness which was upon ourpeople so sorely would pass us by until we could build the home, planta garden, and raise food from the earth.

  Sarah and I often asked each other when we were alone, whether the goodLord, whom we strove to serve diligently, would allow us to starve todeath in this strange land where we had hoped to be so very near Him;for, indeed, as the days passed and the food we had brought with usfrom England became more nearly unfit to eat, it was as if death stoodclose at hand.

  THE NEW HOME

 

  It seemed like a very long while before the houses were ready so thatwe who were well could go on shore to live. I must tell you what ourhome is like. In Scrooby, when one builds a house, he has the treessawed into timbers and boards at a mill; but in this new land we had nomills. When a man in England wants to make a chimney, he buys bricksand mortar; but here, as father said, we had plenty of clay and lime,yet could not put them to proper use until tools were brought acrossthe sea with which to work such material into needed form.

  There was plenty of granite and other rock out of which to make cellarsand walls; but no one could cut it, and even though it was alreadyshaped, we had no horses with which to haul it. Think for a moment whatit must mean not to have cows, sheep, oxen, horses or chickens, and wehad none of these for three or four years.

  My father built the house we are now living in, almost alone, havingbut little help from the other men when he had to raise the heavytimbers. First, after clearing away the snow, he dug a hole in thefrozen ground, two or three feet deep, making it of the same shape ashe had planned the house. Then, having cut down trees for timbers, hestood them upright all around the inside of this hole, leaving here aplace for a door, and there another for a window, until the sides andends of the building were made.

  On the inside he filled the hole again with the earth he had taken outat the beginning, pounding it down solid to form a floor, and at thesame time to help make the logs more secure in an upright po
sition.Where the floor of earth does not hold the timbers firmly enough, whatare called puncheons are fastened to the outside just beneath the roof.

  Puncheons are logs that have been split and trimmed with axes untilthey are something like planks, and you will see very many in ourvillage of Plymouth. Hard work it is indeed to make these puncheonplanks; but they were needed to fasten crosswise on the sides and endsof our house, in order to hold the logs more firmly in place.

  Across the top of the house, slanting them so much that the water wouldrun off, father placed a layer of logs to make the roof.

 

  Three puncheons were put across the inside of the roof, being fastenedwith pegs of wood, for the few nails we have among us are of too muchvalue to be used in house building.

  That the roof might prevent the water from running into the house,father stripped bark from hemlock trees, and placed it over the logstwo or three layers deep, fastening the whole down with poles cut fromyoung trees.

  MASTER WHITE AND THE WOLF

  Of course, when this home was first built, there were many cracksbetween the logs on the sides and ends; but these mother and I stuffedfull of moss and clay, while father was cutting wood for the fire,until the wind no longer finds free entrance, and we are not like to bein the same plight as was Master White, less than two months after wecame ashore to live.

 

  He would not spend the time to fill up the cracks, as we had done, andone night while he lay in bed, a hungry wolf thrust his paw through andscratched the poor man's head so severely that the blood ran freely.Sarah thinks he must have awakened very quickly just then.

  THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE

  We have a partition inside our house, thus dividing the lower partinto two rooms. It is made of clay, with which has been mixed beachgrass. Mother and I made a white liquid of powdered clam shells andwater, with which we painted it until one would think it the same kindof wall you have in Scrooby. With pieces of logs we children helped topound the earth inside until the floor was smooth and firm; but fatherpromised that at some later time we should have a floor of puncheons,as indeed we have now, and very nice and comfortable it is.

 

  I wish you might see it after mother and I have covered it well withclean white sand from the seashore, and marked it in pretty patterns ofvines and leaves: but this last we do only when making the house readyfor meeting, or for some great feast.

  At the windows are shutters made of puncheons, as is also the door, andboth are hung with straps of leather in the stead of real hinges.

  Perhaps you may think that with only a puncheon shutter at the window,we must perforce sit in darkness when it storms, or in cold weatheradmit too much frost in order to have light. But let me tell you thatour windows are closed quite as well as yours, though not so nicely.We brought from home some stout paper, and this, plentifully oiled,we nailed across the window space. Of course we cannot look out to seeanything; but the light finds its way through readily.

  A CHIMNEY WITHOUT BRICKS

  I had almost forgotten to tell you how father built a chimney withouteither bricks or mortar, for of course we had none of those things whenwe first made our village.

 

  Our chimney is of logs plastered plentifully with clay, and fastenedto the outside of the building, with a hole cut through the side of thehouse that the fireplace may be joined to it.

  The fireplace itself is built of clay, made into walls as one wouldlay up bricks, and held firmly together by being mixed with dried beachgrass.

  It looks somewhat like a large, square box, open in front, and withsides and ends at least two feet thick. It is so large that Sarah and Imight stand inside, if so be the heat from the fire was not too great,and look straight out through it at the sky.

  Father drags in, as if he were a horse, logs which are much largeraround than is my body, and mother, or one of the neighbors, helps himroll them into the big fireplace where, once aflame, they burn from onemorning until another.

  BUILDING THE FIRE

  The greatest trouble we have, or did have during our first winterhere, was in holding the fire, for the wood, having just been cut inthe forest, is green, and the fire very like to desert it unless wekeep close watch. Neither mother nor I can strike a spark with flintand steel as ably as can many women in the village; therefore, when,as happened four or five times, we lost our fire, one of us took astrip of green bark, or a shovel, and borrowed from whosoever of ourneighbors had the brightest blaze, enough of coals to set our ownhearth warm again.

 

  Some of the housewives who are more skilled in the use of firearms thanmy mother or myself, kindle a blaze by flashing a little powder in thepan of a gun, allowing the flame to strike upon the tinder, and thus becarried to shavings of dry wood. It is a speedy way of getting fire;but one needs to be well used to the method, else the fingers or theface will get more of heat than does the tinder. Father cautions usagainst such practice, declaring that he will not allow his weapons toremain unloaded simply for kitchen use, when at any moment the need mayarise for a ready bullet.

  But we have in Plymouth one chimney of which even you in Scrooby mightbe proud.

  MASTER BRADFORD'S CHIMNEY

  Master Bradford built what is a perfect luxury of a chimney, whichshows what a man can do who has genius, and my mother says he showedgreat skill in thus building. If you please, his chimney is of stone,even though we have no means of cutting rock, such as is known atScrooby. He sought here and there for flat stones, laying them oneupon another with a plentiful mixture of clay, until he built a chimneywhich cannot be injured by fire, and yet is even larger than ours.

  Its heart is so big that I am told Master Bradford himself can climbup through it without difficulty, and at the bottom, or, rather, wherethe fireplace ends and the chimney begins, is a shelf on either side,across which is laid a bar of green wood lest it burn too quickly; onthis the pot-hooks and pot-claws may be hung by chains.

 

  It would seem as if all this had made Master Bradford over vain, forbecause the wooden bar, which he calls a backbar, has been burnedthrough twice, thereby spoiling the dinner, he has sent to England foran iron one, and when it comes his family may be proud indeed, for onlythink how easily one can cook when there are so many conveniences!

  We are forced to put our pots and pans directly on the coals, andit burns one's hands terribly at times, if the fire is too bright.Besides, the cinders fall on the bread of meal, which causes much delayin the eating, because so much time is necessary in scraping them off,and even at the best, I often get more of ashes than is pleasant to thetaste.

  Skillets from the "Mayflower"]

  Bread of any kind is such a rarity with us that we can ill afford tohave it spoiled by ashes. During the first two years we had only themeal from Indian corn with which to make it; but when we were able toraise rye, it was mixed with the other, and we had a most wholesomebread, even though it was exceeding dark in color.

  SCARCITY OF FOOD

  In Scrooby one thinks that he must have bread of some kind forbreakfast; but we here in Plymouth have instead of wheaten loaves,pudding made of ground Indian corn, sometimes sweetened, but more oftenonly salted, and with it alone we satisfy our hunger during at leasttwo out of the three meals. I can remember of two seasons when all thefood we had for more than three months, was this same hasty pudding, aswe soon learned to call it.

  That first winter we spent here was so dreadful and so long that I donot like even to think of it. Nearly all the food we had brought fromEngland was spoiled before we came ashore.

  There were many times when Sarah and I were so hungry that we cried,with our arms around each other's neck, as if being so close togetherwould still the terrible feeling in our stomachs.

 

  All the men who were able to walk went hunting; but at one time, beforethe warm weather came again, only five men were well enough to trampthrough the forest, and these five had, in addition, to
chop wood forthe whole village.

  Mother and the other women who were not on beds of sickness, went fromhouse to house, doing what they might for those who were ill, while wechildren were sent to pick up dead branches for the fires, because attimes the men were not able to cut wood enough for the needs of all.

  Then so many died! Each day we were told that this neighbor or that hadbeen called to Heaven. I have heard father often say since then, thatthe hardest of the work during those dreadful days, was to dig graveswhile the earth was frozen so solidly.

  Think! Fifty out of our little company of one hundred and two, CaptainStandish's wife among the others, were called by God, and as each wentout into the other world, we who were left on earth felt more and morekeenly our helplessness and desolation.

  A TIMELY GIFT

  It was fortunate indeed for us that Captain Standish was among thoseable to labor for others, else had we come much nearer dying bystarvation. A famous hunter is the captain, and one day, when I wassearching for leaves of the checkerberry plant under the snow, motherhaving said the chewing of them might save me from feeling so hungry,Captain Standish dropped a huge wild turkey in front of me.

  It seemed like a gift from God, and although it was very heavy, Idragged it home, forgetting everything except that at last we shouldhave something to eat.