THE MAYFLOWER IN PLYMOUTH HARBOR.
Across the bay they drive, keeping on a press of sail to make the desired harbor before nightfall when crash goes the mast, broken into three pieces, and the shallop is near being wrecked. Now the flood-tide takes them and bears them in past the Gurnet nose, and Master Coppin, finding himself in a strange place that he had never seen before, throws up his hands and exclaims: “The Lord be merciful to us, I never saw this place before,” and in his terror would have run the boat on shore, “in a cove full of breakers,” between the Gurnet and Saquish; “but a lusty seaman which steered bade those that rowed, if they were men, about with her, or else they were all cast away.” The short twilight of the winter day had faded into darkness, as the storm-tossed and dispirited company found themselves “under the lee of a small island.” There it is before us, the third highland to the left—the first being the Gurnet and the second Saquish. They landed, and kept their watch that night in a rain. Gov. Bradford, in his history, gives us a few more particulars: “In the morning they find the place to be a small island secure from Indians. And this being the last day of the week, they here dry their stuff, fix their pieces, rest themselves, return God thanks for their many deliverances and here the next day keep their Christian Sabbath.” Tradition says that from a large rock with a flat top that is there now, bearing the inscription, “On the Sabbath day we rested,” the first prayer ascended on this shore; and there, for the first time in New England, praise and thanks were given to that watchful Providence that had guided and guarded them. The next day, Monday, they sailed up to the shore below us, and, stepping on Plymouth Rock, made the exploration which ultimately determined them to fix upon this place for their plantation.
Morton Park
One of the most attractive spots in old Plymouth and one that the casual visitor does not always see, is Morton Park. Lying a little more than a mile from the town centre it makes a convenient pleasure-ground for Plymouth people, and the beauty of the place is such as to attract all lovers of woodland scenery. Nature has done her most to make the park charming, and man has very wisely made little attempt to improve it. Nearly 200 acres there are, consisting of deep woods and open country, hills and valleys, brooks and ponds.
ENTRANCE TO MORTON PARK.
The park nearly surrounds Little Pond, consisting of forty acres, and borders for a mile on the historic Billington Sea, which has 308 acres. Roads and paths have been laid out in romantic situations, and some trees planted, but otherwise the wild woodland cleared of underbrush remains in its natural state. In 1889 the land was given to the town by several public-spirited citizens, and the park was named for Nathaniel Morton, Esq., one of its principal donors, who during his life made it his special pride, and gave his money generously for its improvement.