The women of the Mayflower and women of Plymouth colony

by Ethel J. R. C. Noyes

They were not without news of England, for their community was constantly increased by new arrivals, who, hearing of the success of their venture, came to try the experiment themselves; some remaining as true friends and burden sharers, others returning.

Scarcely three years passed before the women had the joy of moving into attractive newly built cottages on a piece of ground in a very desirable location for their needs, bought by several of the men for all in common. All were now in good circumstances retained by continual labor, however. The nearness of the famous University was a satisfaction to the many intellectual men of the party, both to enter as students or to read in its library.

That the content of the men was reflected by the women is without doubt, for if the men in a family are fairly happy it is easy for the women to be so, and, on their own account they had reason to be lighthearted. Their cosy little houses were built at the sides of the piece of property, the center becoming a small park or community garden with sanded walks, flower bordered. The pastor’s house, at one end, was the largest and finest, for in it the Sunday services and three teaching services or lectures were held, as they had been held in the old manor house in Scrooby.

Besides their two indefatigable and honored leaders, the pastor and William Brewster, now an elder in their Church, the community was fortunate in having among them the young doctor, a widower, whose home was kept by his sister, Anna. Her self-reliant, decisive character must have been highly sympathetic and congenial to her brother. The life of Anna Fuller is one of those most discernable to us in that coterie of women, after the lapse of the long years. Tactful and clever she was, and a favorite with all. Between her and Mary Brewster there grew a warm attachment.

A friend to them both and to many others, was Katherine Carver (the wife of John Carver, a prominent and valued man of their company) whose lovely character endeared her to them, but whose chief interest in life was her husband and what concerned him.

Ann Tilly and the wife of James Chilton added to the group of these young matrons who enjoyed their quiet but not altogether uneventful lives in mutual sympathy and esteem. We must admire the smoothness with which they managed their affairs, taking into consideration the varying temperaments among them; tact and unselfishness, wisdom and charitableness must indeed have been taught them by “the grave Mistress Experience,” and not only among themselves was it observable, but also with their new, interested and friendly neighbors, the women of that Dutch city, through whom they became acquainted with its manners and customs and to feel quite familiar with them. Their children and the Dutch children soon became friends and through them the mothers of each began their knowledge of one another, to their mutual advantage. We know the pride of the native women in their city and how ready and willing they were to show its sights and relate its history to these interested strangers.

Thus we can easily fancy a party coming along Belfry Lane and through other streets on their way to visit the Burg, a promised treat to the children and desired by their elders. Ann Tilly is taking the children of her household—two little cousins and a niece—having none of her own, whom she has mothered. Mistress Chilton has with her, her daughter; Mary Brewster and her two daughters walk with Katherine Carver; Anna Fuller and the Carpenter girls—one soon to be her sister-in-law—and one or two boys, a lively party, all accompanied by some Dutch friends as guides.

Leyden was at that time full of reminders of the war with Spain, its part of it having been the great siege. Up on the Burg the country for miles around lies before them, and as they look, the story is told and they try to picture just where and how the battle was fought. Doubtless some old soldier was on the Burg, that bright afternoon, living for himself again that time of suffering and valor, and glad to recount many of the details and describe where had been a particular Spanish redoubt, or just where such a regiment had been stationed, or the location of a General’s headquarters.

We of days far from theirs are yet joined to their experiences of that afternoon of our fancy if we have chanced on a similar recital from one who had participated in another war with Spain in a very different country and setting, a war in which the descendants of some of these women had a part. From the wall of an old Spanish castle near Manila, a party of women, one of them the present writer, looked over the surrounding plain on an afternoon not many years ago, while the then American owner, their host, related just such details and anecdotes of the Philippine incident in the war with Spain, already some years in the past; there was a battery of the United States regulars; the insurgents came in here; a far glimpse of the sunlit harbor showed where Dewey’s ships lay; and so on. By such a touch does a string on the harp of life sing on through the centuries.

Coming home, they would visit the City Hall, where were then kept many mementos and relics of victory upon which they could look with wondering earnestness, feeling as we when today viewing objects closely connected with the World War, so recently in our thoughts.