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.
