| Chapter XIII
Escaping the long shadow of famine
Despite earlier optimism, the settlers
face near-starvation
as new colonists arrive without food;
but in time the colony achieves freedom from want.
The
delight of that first Thanksgiving, and the Pilgrims' high
hopes that they would henceforth have an abundant larder and
the blessing of assured peace, quickly faded.
Freedom from hunger would not be gained until after the unexpected
rain that saved the harvest of 1623. And the comforting proof
that Massasoit was completely sincere would not come until
that same year, when an alert from the chief, conveyed by
Hobomok, would help to preserve the very life of the colony.
Celebration of the first Thanksgiving was hardly over when
the Pilgrims, at first alarmed and then overjoyed, caught
sight of the sails of the 55-ton ship Fortune as it entered
their harbor on Nov. 11, 1621. It was the first ship from
overseas since the Pilgrims arrived. Aboard were thirty-five
passengers, including twelve Pilgrims, nine of whom were from
Leyden. Twenty-three of the passengers had been assembled
by the adventurers and were from the London area.
The newcomers' arrival created a problem, for they had no
food. Winslow noted that the Fortune even had to
receive food from the Pilgrims for their voyage home. When
the Fortune left, on Dec. 13, Bradford felt forced to put
the colony on half-rations--quite a sudden reversal from the
festive Thanksgiving Day.
The Fortune had not been gone long when a messenger
from the belligerent Narragansetts appeared at the plantation
carrying a mysterious "bundle of new arrows lapped (wrapped)
in a rattlesnake's skin."
Squanto explained that this was a challenge from the Narragansett
sachem, Canonicus. Bradford, prompt to act in time of crisis,
consulted with the colony's leaders. Then, said Winslow, "the
Governor stuffed the skin with powder and shot, and sent it
back, returning no less defiance to Canonicus," who most likely
was angry over his enemy Massasoit's links with the Pilgrims.
Dread of musket fire had spread to even the Narragansetts.
When the snakeskin arrived in the Indian camp, said Winslow,
"it was no small terror to this savage king; insomuch as he
would not once touch the powder or shot, or suffer it to stay
in his house or country...and having been posted (sent) from
place to place a long time, at length came whole back again.”
To increase their security, the Pilgrims enclosed "their dwellings
with a good strong pale, and made flankers (fortications adjoining
the main fences) to convenient places with gates to shut,
which were every night locked, and a watch kept." Capt. Standish
divided his men into four squadrons and assigned them places
to which "they were to repair upon any sudden alarm." This
work was completed in March.
Then in June, a passing fishing vessel brought the shocking
news that on March 22, 1622--the same month the Pilgrims had
finished their eight-foot palisade--the Indians in Virginia
had massacred 347 Jamestown settlers. This "deadly stroake"
would contribute two years later to the bankruptcy of the
Virginia Company of London, which had created the first permanent
English colony in America.
On receipt of the news of the massacre the Pilgrims, despite
their "weakness and time of wants," started on a 10-month
effort to build, on top of Burial Hill, "a fort with good
timber, both strong and comely, which was of good defense,
made with a flat roof and battlements, on which their ordnance
were mounted, and where they kept constant watch." The
structure, said Bradford, also served the Pilgrims "for a
meeting house and was fitted accordingly for that use." Here
the revered Elder Brewster, the colony's religious leader,
"taught twice every Sabbath" for many years.
Danger to the colony's existence did not come, however, at
this timber fort-meetinghouse. Rather, the danger had been
fore-shadowed the previous November when the Fortune had brought
a letter form the adventurer Thomas Weston, an enterprising
man now grown callous and deceitful.
He rebuked the Pilgrims for wasting their time in "discoursing,
arguing and consulting," as he imagined they must be doing,
because the Mayflower had returned with no cargo.
He warned that lack of profit could terminate support from
the adventurers.
This heartless letter was addressed to Gov. Carver, whose
dedication and toil had cost him his life. Bradford's response
was prompt and pointed. He wrote Weston that as great as were
the costs to the adventurers, the loss of Carver's life "and
many other honest and industrious men's lives cannot be valued
at any price." He told of the Pilgrims' suffering, so severe
"that the living were scarce able to bury the dead." As for
any who said the Pilgrims were idle, "their hearts can tell
their tongues lie."
Weston, always protesting friendship, had written in his hard
letter, "I promise you I will never quit the business." Yet
the Pilgrims gathered in the months that followed that he
had done just that, and was adventuring on his own.
In May 1622, seven men in a shallop came from Damariscove
off the Maine coast, where Weston had a large ship fishing.
The men brought "no victuals nor any hope of any." Weston
sent word that he was planning a colony, and asked the Pilgrims
meantime to house, "entertain and supply" these men. Weston
did not stop there. Toward the end of June he sent two ships
with "some 50 or 60" more men to stay with and be fed by the
Pilgrims, themselves hungry and confronted by famine. Some
of these men were deserving, said Winslow, but most were a
"stain on old England that bred them."
The Pilgrims fed them, out of "compassion to the people...come
into a wilderness," and in consideration of what Weston had
"been unto them" and had done for them in the past. But the
newcomers stole corn, made trouble, and repaid kindness, with
"secret backbitings and revilings." They even left their sick
and lame behind in Plymouth when they took off at summer's
end to establish Weston's colony at Wessagusset (Weymouth).
Weston's men, through waste, disorder and lack of leadership,
gradually fell into such misery and dire straits--literally
grubbing for food, some starving, some dying--as to bring
upon themselves contempt and enmity of the Indian neighbors
they had wronged by their stealing corn.
Leaders of the Massachusetts tribe began scheming with their
Indian neighbors to rid themselves of Weston's colony. They
quickly realized, however, said Winslow, that even if they
spared the Plymouth colony, the Pilgrims "would never leave
the death of our countrymen unrevenged; and therefore their
safety could not be without the overthrow of both plantations."
One of the leading conspirators--husky, tall Wituwmat--was
so confident of the outcome that, while seeking allies among
the Cape Cod Indians, he declared in his native tongue, in
the presence of the uncomprehending Capt. Standish, that the
English "died crying...more like children than men."
At this juncture, in March of 1623, word reached Plymouth
that Massasoit was sick and "like to die." Bradford at once
sent Winslow "with some cordials (invigorating medicines)
to administer to him." Hobomok went as guide.
Massasoit, blinded and suffering from days of constipation,
was surrounded by his distressed followers, with medicine
men making "a hellish noise." The chief stretched out his
hand to Winslow and said, "O Winslow, I shall never see thee
again."
A cordial bottle had broken en route, but Winslow gave the
sachem "a confection of many comfortable conserves" and dissolved
some of the confection in water for him to drink. Then, on
Massasoit's sight returning, Winslow made the chief some duck
broth. Massasoit's health, as by magic, was restored after
a few hours sleep. Whereupon he declared, "I see the English
are my friends...whilst I live I will never forget this kindness."
When Winslow was about to leave, Massasoit called Hobomok
to the inner council of his warriors, "revealed the plot of
the Massachusetts...and advised us to kill the men of Massachusetts."
Hobomok was to tell this to Winslow on their way home.
To thwart the plot, Bradford dispatched Capt. Standish, along
with eight colonists and Hobomok, to go in the shallop to
Wessagusset. There Standish helped the surviving Weston men
quit their plantation after a fight that left seven Indians
dead, among them Wituwamat.
The Pilgrims speedy action "terrified and amazed" some of
the absent conspirators, among them some of the nine chiefs
who had signed the Sept. 13, 1621 peace accord. These ran
away "like men distracted, living in swamps and other desert
(isolated) places," where some died. Others sent peace gifts
to Plymouth. [If this isn't continued Divine protection over
the Pilgrims, I don't know what is. The Coincidence of Massasoit
getting royally constipated, bringing the Pilgrims to his
aid, so they could learn of this plot. And then backing up
their speedy response and putting a fear and dread in the
conspirators that ended up making them do foolish things that
caused their own deaths. Think about that one for awhile.
The Pilgrims had no way of knowing about this conspiracy that
was being hatched. They were just about their business of
staying close to the Lord in prayer, Bible study, going to
worship without fail in Sunday church services, and working
hard to survive. The Lord was their shield.]
Massasoit, said Winslow, had saved the Pilgrims "when we were
at the pit's brim and...knew not that we were in danger."
Any uncertainty about Massasoit's pledge of peace was now
gone. Massasoit would live into his 80's, to the fall of 1661,
outlasting all the early leaders of the Pilgrim plantation;
and always he kept peace with the Pilgrims.
Nearly two years would pass between the first and second Thanksgivings.
At times, famine would be almost as close as during the worst
days at Wessagusset, with the Pilgrims, their corn supply
low, "enforced to live on groundnuts, clams, muscles [sic]
and such other things as naturally the country afforded."
They even had to draw on their precious seed corn to furnish
provisions for Standish during his rescue mission to Wessagusset.
The Fortune's arriving with "not so much as a biscuit
cake or any other victuals," resulting both from penuriousness
of the adventurers and the four-month length of the passage,
meant that the 1621 harvest so joyfully celebrated at the
first Thanksgiving had, virtually overnight, become painfully
inadequate. Bradford's ordering "six months at half allowance"
seemed inadequate by May 1622, when the Pilgrims' "provisions
were wholly spent and they looked hard for supply but none
came."
By the time Weston's men arrived--the seven forerunners in
May 1622 and 50 to 60 more in June--the Pilgrim colony found
famine had begun "to pinch them sore."
The arrival, also in June, of the fishermen's boat, though
it brought the terrible news about the Jamestown massacre,
was providential. Bradford sent Winslow in a Pilgrim boat,
getting pilotage from the fishermen, to the Maine waters off
Monhegan and Damariscove to get some provisions.
Several benefits came from this trip. The fishing captains
in Maine, even to the point of straining their own supplies,
gladly contributed, and Winslow returned with "good quantity."
The Pilgrims also learned the route to Maine.
Still, to make the food supply hold until harvest, Bradford
limited distribution to "only a quarter-pound of bread a day
to each person...till corn was ripe."
The 1622 harvest was a poor one, chiefly because of the Pilgrims'
inability to tend their crop as they should have because of
"their weakness for want of food." The harvest had also been
reduced by the theft of green corn by Weston's men. As for
purchasing corn, the Pilgrims faced a dilemma: "Markets there
were none--to go to but only the Indians," and the Pilgrims
"had no trading commodities."
PROVIDENCE AGAIN CAME
TO THE RESCUE, THE 60-ton Discovery, on its way from
Jamestown to England, came into Plymouth Harbor. Its captain,
though he proved a greedy, unprincipled trader, did sell the
Pilgrims a good supply of beads and knives that were "then
good trade" with the Indians.
That fall and during the winter of 1623, the Pilgrims made
several trips to barter for corn with the Indians. In this
period--before the colonists had taught the Indians how to
increase their corn crops by use of the English hoe--the Indians
had not planted corn to excess. Still, the Pilgrims were able
to acquire "about 26 or 28 hogsheads of corn and beans"--which,
said Bradford, "was more than the Indians could well spare
in these parts."
On the very first trips, in September, while Bradford was
trading in Cape Cod's present Pleasant Bay, Squanto was stricken
with a fever. He died within a few days. He was buried, deeply
mourned, somewhere on the present Chatham-to-Orleans shore.
[Free enterprise system embraced over communal or communist
type system--and found to yield great success.]
Planting time came in April 1623, when, with little corn supply
left but "that preserved for seed...we thought best to leave
off all other works and prosecute that most necessary."
Bradford and the "chiefest amongst them" made a basic decision
aimed at speeding, if possible, the Pilgrims' freedom from
famine. Despite the agreements made with the now-wavering
adventurers, the Pilgrim leaders decided that the best way
to get a better crop was to forgo holding it in common and
to let each be responsible for his own supply. As
Bradford told it, "they should set corn every man for his
own particular, and in that regard to trust to themselves,
in all other things to go on in the general way as before."
So, without its entailing any inheritance of land, the Pilgrim
leaders "assigned to every family a parcel of land according
to the proportion of their number. This," said Bradford, "had
very good success, for it made all hands very industrious,
so as much more corn was planted than otherwise would have
been by any means the Governor or any other could use."
Two ships from London--the 240-ton Anne, which came
in mid-July 1623, and the accompanying (for a while) Little
James, a 44-ton pinnace that arrived two weeks later--brought
93 more men, women and children to the colony.
These passengers, on arriving in their promised land and seeing
the Pilgrims' "Low and poor condition ashore...were much daunted
and dismayed, and according to their divers humors were diversely
affected. Some wished themselves in England again; others
fell aweeping, fancying their own misery in what they saw
now in others; others pitying the distress they saw their
friends had been long in, and still were under. In a word,
all were full of sadness.
'AND TRULY IT WAS NO
MARVEL THEY should be thus affected, for they (the Pilgrims)
were in a very low condition; many were ragged in apparel
and some little better than half naked. But for food they
were all alike, save some had got a few peas of the ship that
was last here."
The colony had been suffering a great drought since mid-May,
so that the cornstalks that had been first set "began to send
forth the ear before it came to half growth and that which
was later not like to yield any at all." The beans were "parched
away as though they had been scorched before the fire. Now
were our hopes overthrown and we discouraged..."
The devout Pilgrims, "in this great distress," gathered
in mid-July in the new meetinghouse for a day of humiliation
[fasting] together, the heavens were as clear, and the drought
as like to continue as ever it was, yet (our exercise continuing
some eight or nine hours), before our departure, the weather
was overcast, the clouds gathered together on all sides, and
on the next morning distilled such soft sweet, and moderate
showers of rain, continuing some 14 days...as it was hard
to say whether our withered corn, or drooping affections,
were most quickened and revived; such was the bounty and goodness
of God.
"Of this the Indians, by means of Hobomok, took notice," said
Winslow. The transformation, added Bradford, "made the Indians
astonished to behold."
Neither writer gave a precise date for the second Thanksgiving
Day they then held in Plymouth; it was late July or early
August. But of the celebration, Bradford rapturously observed:
"Instead of famine now God gave them plenty, and the face
of things was changed, to the rejoicing of the hearts of many...
"Any general want or famine hath not been amongst them since
to this day."
Among the passengers who arrived on the Anne was
one who brought joy to the face of Gov. Bradford. She was
33-year-old Alice Carpenter Southworth, a widow about a year
his junior. Southworth was of the Leyden congregation and
had been living in London. She had come with her sister, Juliana,
who was married to George Morton and had four children. It
was Morton who had most likely arranged the publication of
early writings by Bradford and Winslow that became known as
Mourt's Relation.
Not many days passed after the arrival of the ship before
the widow, on Aug. 14, 1623, became the bride of Bradford.
Our only description of the wedding, and that brief, comes
from a 23-year-old member of the gentry, Emmanuel Altham,
one of the colony's adventurers and a military captain who
had arrived in Plymouth as the supercargo of the Little
James, intending to use the pinnace for trading and fishing.
In a letter to his brother, Sir Edward, young Capt. Altham
told first of the arrival of Massasoit for the wedding: The
sachem, "as proper a man as ever was seen in this country,"
came with his squaw-sachem, the queen.
Massasoit was attired, "like the rest of his men, all naked
but only a black wolf skin he wears upon his shoulder and
about the breadth of a span he wears beads about his middle.
"With him came four other kings and about six score men with
their bows and arrows--where, when they came to our town,
we saluted them with the shooting off of many muskets and
training our men. And so all the bows and arrows was brought
into the Governors house, and he brought the Governor three
or four bucks and a turkey. And so we had very good pastime
in seeing them (the Indians) dance, which is in such manner,
with such noise that you would wonder. "
And now to say somewhat of the great cheer we had at the Governor's
marriage. We had about 12 pasty (meat pie) venisons, besides
others, pieces of roasted venison and other such good in such
quantity that I could wish you some of our share. For here
we have the best grapes that ever you saw--and the biggest,
and divers sorts of plums and nuts..."
Any threat of famine--indeed, to the Pilgrims' survival--seemed
gone at last from Plymouth.
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