THE new executive was still handicapped by the weakness of convalescence after his critical illness, though the election had been postponed till he was better; and he was aided by Isaac Allerton, a colonist of means and ability who was chosen as Governor's Assistant. At the chief magistrate's request, five assistants were given him in 1624, and the number was increased to seven in 1633 when his successor Edward Winslow was elected, "Mr. Bradford having been governor about ten years, and now by importunity got off," as Governor Winthrop of the Massachusetts Bay Colony wrote in his manuscript history of New England. The importunity was Bradford's, not the little Colony's; for he urged rotation of office, saying of the appointment, "If it is any honor or benefit, it is fit others should be made partakers of it; if it is a burden (as doubtless it is), it is but equal others should help to bear it, and this is the end of Annual Elections."

Consequently Thomas Prince, a later settler, was voted to this position in 1634 and '38, and Mr. Winslow again in '36 and '44, three times in all. After that, for thirteen consecutive springs, Mr. Bradford was placed in the gubernatorial chair, and but for his decease then, he would probably have continued long therein. As it was, he held the office thirty full years. And in every instance when his request for a successor was heard, the ballot made him chief of assistants, or Deputy Governor. What clearer evidence could be furnished us, as to the sentiment of the people, both in their small original company and as numbers increased?

His administration exhibited a happy blending of his constitutional mildness and moderation, combined with a firmness that could not be shaken, a patience that would not wear out, and an optimistic hope that was based upon his Christian faith. Offenders against the law and the community's peace felt his determination, but no one was more ready to pardon the humbled and restore to them the full privileges of citizenship. In matters of diplomacy and difficult correspondence, including delicate foreign relations, he was tactful yet insistent upon principle, defending with a keen sense of justice the honor of the colonial state. Conventional courtesies did not deceive him, where opposition lay concealed; yet he modestly disowned sincere and merited praise when he considered it unwarranted. Scrupulous not to exceed his prerogatives, he was ready to surrender what some in his place would have thought their proper rights. In a word, he did not hold his office anxiously. To him it was not a prize, a dear object for ambition to gain and shrewd policy to perpetuate, even when the Plymouth Colony grew in size and dignity. He mentions his first election only, in particular, adding "once for all," that he was returned "sundry years together."

There was indeed need for strength and calmness; and the unfailing fortitude, coupled with a cool, clear foresight, gave assurance to the people alike during sudden but transient alarms and prolonged periods of impending disaster. Thus their confidence was not disappointed, but was strengthened with every fresh proof. Others had the same high spirit, for it was a noble democracy; but in all such situations courageous leadership cannot fail to have a steadying effect upon the body politic. America did not outgrow this need, and this benefit, in the later days of Washington and Lincoln. It is not at all strange that in the formative, we may say experimental years of New England, an unpretentious but wise and kind administration should have been gratefully appreciated and sustained, by the popular suffrage annually accorded.

As an instance of Bradford's repeated defense of the Colony in its course of action, this letter may suffice, which was addressed to Weston in answer to the latter's complaint that the Mayflower carried a light return cargo of pelts:

"Sr: Your large letter writen to Mr. Carver, and dated ye 6. of July, 1621, I have received ye 10. of Novembr, wherin (after ye apologie made for your selfe) you lay many heavie imputations upon him and us all. Touching him, he is departed this life, and now is at rest in ye Lord from all those troubls and incoumbrances with which we are yet to strive. He needs not my appologie; for his care and pains was so great for ye commone good, both ours and yours, as that therwith (it is thought) he oppressed him selfe and shortened his days; of whose loss we cannot sufficiently camplaine. At great charges in this adventure, I confess you have beene, and many losses may sustaine; but ye loss of his and many other honest and industrious mens lives, cannot be vallewed at any prise. Of ye one, ther may be hope of recovery, but ye other no recompence can make good. But I will not insiste in generalls, but come more perticulerly to ye things them selves. You greatly blame us for keping ye ship so long in ye countrie, and then to send her away emptie. She lay 5. weks at Cap-Codd whilst with many a weary step (after a long journey) and the indurance of many a hard brunte, we sought out in the foule winter a place of habitation. Then we went in so tedious a time to make provission to sheelter us and our goods, about wch labour, many of our armes & leggs can tell us to this day we were not necligent. But it pleased God to vissite us then, with death dayly, and with so generall a disease, that the living were scarce able to burie the dead; and ye well not in any measure sufficiente to tend ye sick. And now to be so greatly blamed, for not fraighting ye ship, doth indeed goe near us, and much discourage us. But you say you know we will pretend weaknes; and doe you think we had not cause? Yes, you tell us you beleeve it, but it was more weaknes of judgmente, then of hands. Our weaknes herin is great we confess, therfore we will bear this check patiently amongst ye rest, till God send us wiser men. But they which tould you we spent so much time in discoursing & consulting, &c., their harts can tell their toungs, they lye. They cared not, so they might salve their owne sores, how they wounded others."

Two problems quickly confronted the new chief magistrate, and they were surely serious enough: the problem of a bare subsistence, and of defense against hostile invasion by the natives.

New Plymouth was not new as a plantation. This was the site of the Indian village of Patuxet, whose occupants had worked its somewhat restricted area of tillage, until about four years previously, when they and other settlements of the aborigines were desolated by plague. A survivor of these Patuxets, Tisquantum or Squanto, showed himself to the Englishmen, and became their valued friend and helper. Doubtless glad to return to his old home, he instructed the colonists in the cultivation of the maize, or Indian corn, an indigenous American product which has become appreciated over the world wherever it thrives. It was the Pilgrims' dependence, and a staple article of trade. The wheat and peas they brought with them failed, and without the corn, threatening starvation must soon have closed their career. As it was, during the first two years they had a veritable battle for existence. Though distemper did not return to them after the horrors of the first winter, they became emaciated under reduced rations; but regulations in severity here were merciful, saving the Colony from annihilation, from one planting time to another.

Squanto lightened this task of the authorities by his lessons in hunting venison, snaring rabbits, catching wild fowl, and fishing, especially during the yearly herring run in the town brook up to the lovely pond called Billington Sea because its discoverer, young Francis Billington mistook it for a salt inlet.

Also the faithful shallop was in constant use by successive parties, who went out into the bay and came not back without a haul of lobsters, cod, or other fish, though at first they were poorly provided with deep-sea tackle and proper nets. Clams afforded a further help, the people treading and digging the flats at low tide, while eels and crabs supplemented this. They were grateful for these means of nourishment from sea and shore, preventing their extinction; yet such could not suffice for permanent living.