THE FIRST STREET.
THE FIRST STREET.
The first street of Plymouth, the first street of New England, was in the making. From the decks of the Mayflower the women looked longingly toward the land, whither the men went daily, hearing the sounds of hammering and sawing which came across the harbor, for as yet none of them had been permitted to go ashore in these new surroundings. The hill which arose at the water’s edge, behind the rock, was snow-crowned; around and beside it a path had been cut and worn by the men as they went to the work of making houses for their families.
By the maps and charts of the company, it was found that this situation, which they had all approved for their permanent residence, was the place visited and named by an earlier explorer of whom they had heard, and some had seen, Captain John Smith. The appellation he gave to it suited them well—Plymouth; if they had had the selection of a name as well as the site for their New World home, it could not have been better chosen, in view of the fact that Plymouth was the last place their feet had trod and their eyes seen in their Old World home, and the inhabitants of that town had been kind to them.
Nevertheless it was of Leyden that they thought when building. The larger hill at the end of the street, which they at first saw in the mind’s eye, even as we do now, reminded them of the eminence crowned by the fort at Leyden, and upon it they would build their fort and it would be a constant reminder of the Burg.
But first must be built the store-house to hold all their belongings moved from the ship, and then the few houses necessary to shelter themselves. Of these plans they talked at night when the men returned to the ship or on the days when the weather was so inclement that no trip could be made ashore; these delays were a constant strain upon the nerves of all, as the need for haste was so evident, with winter’s storms increasing and the impatience of the crew growing therewith, to say nothing of the failing health and strength of so many of themselves.
The fortitude and patience of the women who had braved all the dangers, shared all the trials, and now, in spite of courage and cheerfulness seemed fading before their eyes was enough to urge every man to use his own last reserves of energy and strength to provide better conditions for them. They well realized the important asset to their venture, of the women. Without them not even the magnetism and charm of Brewster, the indomitableness and courage of Myles Standish, the business ability of Allerton, the experience of Hopkins, the worldly wisdom of Winslow, the youth and strength of John Howland and John Alden or the zeal and fervor of Bradford and Carver could have assured the stability and success of this colony. Previous settlements in this region and others further south bore witness to a lack of something making for continued interest and permanence on the part of the men, who were not wanting in necessary personal qualities. The abandonment of such ventures in Maine and Virginia, where no women had accompanied the men, is proof that a common larder and fireside are not the things for which men struggle against hardship, disaster and death. But the street of Plymouth, albeit made in the face of every trial of circumstance, was made by men for the women they loved, and Plymouth has never been abandoned nor its street untrod by the families and descendants of these men and women.