Though their old tower had seen the sailing of many a ship and the farewells of countless friends in its centuries of guardianship of the little city, no scene had ever been quite like this, and curiosity turned quickly to sympathy.
Friends came also from Amsterdam to see them sail, so that an animated picture filled the evening and morning hours. The fatigue of the women was forgotten or disguised in the sad enjoyment of these last hours with the members of their families who were not to go with them.
Fear and Patience Brewster see naught else but their mother’s face, filled with its well-known love, sympathy and energy, as she made one more effort at self-sacrifice and endurance for her husband’s sake, choosing to go with him and two of her boys who would need her more in the new life than the two daughters, left to the protection of their oldest brother and the care of the Robinsons and other loyal friends in the safety and comfort of their Leyden home, cheering them and others with the prospects of a speedy reunion. Hope and courage gilded these prospects at the time. Sarah Priest, who is to have the care of little Sarah Allerton, her namesake niece, has her husband to part from, as well as her brother and his gentle wife. The doctor’s wife has a similar farewell to make to her husband, though her sister-in-law goes with her family—husband and son—and the wife of Edward Fuller goes with him and their son. Susanna White having all with her whom she holds most dear (her brothers, her husband and little boy) may be looked upon as one of the most fortunate of the company; it is the friends of Anna Fuller (as she still seems to them) who remain behind, who shall have heavier thoughts at parting than Susanna White, though her cheerfulness and kindness are not wanting.
Other women who are happy in having their families with them are Mrs. Chilton and her sweet daughter, Mary, who has ever a special attendant in the person of one of Edward Winslow’s brothers (two of whom had joined him in his life at Leyden and preparations for this adventure), so her valuable bundles of baggage are well looked after in their transportation into the ship.
All is well too, in the heart of Elizabeth Tilly, whose father is more than half her world, and next in it, the object of her girlish admiration, Desire Minter—the ward of lovely Mrs. Carver. Her step-mother and uncle’s family are all part of the outgoing company also, so her spirits may be light enough to amuse the children—herself but little past the boundaries of their land—Elizabeth Tilly with sparkling eyes and wind-blown hair, as we see her then, child of mystery and of argument after centuries have gone. Doubtless any or all of the older members of that company could have answered a question that still burns for some of us—who was her mother? Why the airy tradition floating down the years that she was grand-daughter of John Carver? As much, that, at one time, seemed unfathomable, has come to light regarding these people, this question may one day be definitely answered.
Katherine Carver and Elizabeth Winslow, feeling that since their husbands believed in this venture, and since they could make new and comfortable homes for them anywhere, all was well, are anxious to be off, especially as the former had for some time been separated from her husband, and looked forward to seeing him soon, at Southampton, where he was to meet their ship. Also the wife of Captain Standish, who had joined this expedition, thought that any undertaking with which her martial husband connected himself was right, and so long as she could be with him in any part of the world, happiness would be hers. These three women, having only their husbands to think of, are naturally drawn together, and each can appreciate the beauty and charm of the others, being equally lovely herself.
Like Mary Chilton and her mother, Priscilla Mullins and her’s are happy in the thought that they are not to be separated from one another nor from the men of their family.
Among the friends of all these women accompanying them from Leyden, for the sweet sorrow of parting, is Juliana Morton, sole representative of the Carpenter family, whose daughters had been gay companions with them all, in past days. Juliana and her husband and family alone remained in Leyden, to this date, and for a time thereafter. The parents and the two younger sisters, Mary and Priscilla, returned to their old home in England; Agnes Fuller slept under the shadow of St. Peter’s church and Alice Southworth with her husband and two boys were at this time living in London—business affairs of Edward Southworth having shortened their stay in Leyden. They, however, were thoroughly in touch with the plans of their old friends, and knew of the difficulties with which they had contended. They also knew of the preparations being made for another ship with passengers, some of them strangers, some friends, to sail from London to meet the ship, from Delfshaven, at Southampton, and together cross the ocean. Like others of the original company their affairs did not admit of themselves being voyagers at this time.
Sarah Fletcher and Hester Cooke are two others whose hearts we feel are heavy, as their husbands are to precede them to a new country, and they must remain with all the others who will await the first opportunity to follow.
The tide has come in, the wind is fair. Now gaily clad sailors are getting up anchor on the little ship, filled with those whose trust is in her. All ashore for those not going—the last, the very last farewells must be said. Their beloved pastor once more leads them all in prayer, his entire flock about him for the last time. And so they “took their leave one of another; which proved to be the last leave to many of them.”