to speak one to another for the abundance of sorrow to part. But we only, going aboard, gave them a volley of small shot and three pieces of ordnance; and so, lifting up our hands to each other, and our hearts for each other to the Lord our God, we departed."

In August the Mayflower and the Speedwell left Southampton for America. But as they were twice compelled to put back by the dismay of the captain of the Speedwell, at Plymouth "they agreed to dismiss her, and those who were willing returned to London, though this was very grievous and discouraging." Having thus winnowed their numbers, the little band, not of resolute men only, but wives, some far gone in pregnancy, children, infants, a floating village of one hundred and two souls, went on board the single ship, which was hired only to convey them across the Atlantic; and, on the sixth day of September, 1620, thirteen years after the first colonization of Virginia, they set sail for a new world.

Had New England been colonized immediately on the discovery of the American continent, the old English institutions would have been planted with the Roman Catholic hierarchy; had the settlement been made under Elizabeth, it would have been before activity of the popular mind in religion had awakened a corresponding activity in politics. The pilgrims were Englishmen, Protestants, exiles for conscience, men disciplined by misfortune, cultivated by opportunities of wide observation, and equal in rank as in rights.

The eastern coast of the United States abounds in convenient harbors, bays, and rivers. The pilgrims, having selected for their settlement the country on the Hudson, the best position on the whole coast, were conducted to the least fertile part of Massachusetts. After a boisterous voyage of sixty-three days, during which one person had died and one was born, they espied land; and, in two days more, on the ninth of November, cast anchor in the first harbor within Cape Cod. On the eleventh, before they landed, they formed themselves into a body politic by this voluntary compact:

"In the name of God, amen; we, whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James,

having undertaken, for the glory of God, and advancement of the Christian faith, and honor of our king and country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one of another, covenant and combine ourselves together into a civil body politic, for our better ordering and preservation and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and, by virtue thereof, to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most convenient for the general good of the colony. Unto which we promise all due submission and obedience."

This instrument was signed by the whole body of men, forty-one in number, who, with their families, constituted the one hundred and two, the whole colony, "the proper democracy," that arrived in New England. In the cabin of the Mayflower humanity recovered its rights, and instituted government on the basis of "equal laws" enacted by all the people for "the general good." John Carver was immediately and unanimously chosen governor for the year.

Men who emigrate, even in well-inhabited districts, pray that their journey may not be in winter. Wasted by the rough voyage, scantily supplied with provisions, the English fugitives found themselves, in the last days of the year, on a bleak and barren coast, in a severe climate, with the ocean on one side and the wilderness on the other. The nearest French settlement was at Port Royal; it was five hundred miles to the English plantation at Virginia. As they at

tempted to disembark, the water was found so shallow that they were forced to wade; and, in the freezing weather, this sowed the seeds of consumption. The bitterness of mortal disease was their welcome to the inhospitable shore.

The spot for the settlement remained to be chosen. The shallop was unshipped, and it was a real disaster to find that it needed repairs. The carpenter made slow work, so that sixteen or seventeen days elapsed before it was ready for service. But Standish and Bradford and others, impatient of the delay, determined to explore the country by land. "In regard to the danger," the expedition "was rather per

mitted than approved." Much hardship was endured; but no beneficial discoveries could be made in the deep sands near Paomet creek. The first expedition in the shallop was likewise unsuccessful; "some of the people that died that winter took the original of their death" in the enterprise; "for it snowed and did blow all the day and night, and froze withal." The men who were set on shore 66 were tired with marching up and down the steep hills and deep valleys, which lay half a foot thick with snow." A heap of maize was discovered; and further search led to a burial-place of the Indians; but they found "no more corn, nor anything else but graves."

On the sixth, the shallop was again sent out, with Carver, Bradford, Winslow, Standish, and others, and eight or ten seamen. The spray of the sea froze as it fell on them, and made their clothes like coats of iron. That day they reached Billingsgate point, half way to the bottom of the bay of Cape Cod, on the western shore of Wellfleet harbor. The next morning the party divided; those on land find a burial-place, graves, and four or five deserted wigwams, but neither people nor any place inviting a settlement. Before night they all met by the sea-side, and encamped near Namskeket, or Great Meadow creek.

On the eighth they rose at five; their morning prayers were finished, when, as the day dawned, a war-whoop and a flight of arrows announced an attack from Indians. They were of the tribe of the Nausites, who knew the English as kidnappers; but the encounter was without further result. Again the boat's crew give thanks to God, and steer their bark along the coast for the distance of fifteen leagues. But no convenient harbor is discovered. The pilot, who had been in these regions before, gives assurance of a good one, which may be reached before night; and they follow his guidance. After some hours' sailing, a storm of snow and rain begins; the sea swells; the rudder breaks; the boat must now be steered with oars; the storm increases; night is at hand; to reach the harbor before dark, as much sail as possible is borne; the mast breaks into three pieces; the sail falls overboard; but the tide is favorable. The pilot, in dismay, would have

"About

run the boat on shore in a cove full of breakers. with her," exclaimed a sailor, "or we are cast away." They get her about immediately; and, passing over the surf, they enter a fair sound, and shelter themselves under the lee of a small rise of land. It becomes dark, and the rain beats furiously. After great difficulty, they kindle a fire on shore.

The light of the morning of the ninth showed them to be on a small island within the entrance of a harbor. The day was spent in rest and repairs. The next day was the “Christian sabbath," and the pilgrims kept it sacredly, though every consideration demanded haste.

On Monday, the eleventh of December, old style, on the day of the winter solstice, the exploring party of the forefathers land at Plymouth. That day is kept as the origin of New England.

The spot, when examined, promised them a home, and on the fifteenth the Mayflower was safely moored in its harbor. In memory of the hospitalities which the company had received at the last English port from which they had sailed, this oldest New England colony took the name of Plymouth. The system of civil government had been established by common agreement; the church had been organized before it left Leyden. As the pilgrims landed, their institutions were already perfected. Democratic liberty and independent Christian worship started into being.

On the ninth of January, 1621, they began to build—a difficult task for men of whom one half were wasting away with consumptions and lung-fevers. For the sake of haste, it was agreed that every man should build his own house; but, though the winter was unwontedly mild, frost and foul weather were great hindrances; they could seldom work half of the week; and tenements rose slowly in the intervals between storms of sleet and snow.

A few years before, a pestilence had swept away the neighboring tribes. Yet when, in February, a body of Indians from abroad was discovered hovering near, though disappearing when pursued, the colony was organized for defence, with Miles Standish as its captain. But dangers from the natives were not at hand.

One day in March, Samoset, an Indian who had learned a little English of the fishermen at Penobscot, entered the town, and, passing to the rendezvous, exclaimed in English: "Welcome, Englishmen." He was the envoy of Massassoit himself, "the greatest commander of the country," sachem of the tribe possessing the land north of Narragansett bay, and between the rivers of Providence and Taunton. After some little negotiation, in which an Indian, who had been carried to England, acted as an interpreter, the chieftain came in person to visit the pilgrims. With their wives and children they amounted to no more than fifty. He was received with due ceremonies, and a treaty of friendship was completed in few and unequivocal terms. Both parties promised to abstain from mutual injuries, and to deliver up offenders; the colonists were to receive assistance, if attacked; to render it, if Massassoit should be attacked unjustly. The treaty included the confederates of the sachem; it is the oldest act of diplomacy recorded in New England; was concluded in a day; and was sacredly kept for more than half a century. Massassoit needed the alliance, for the powerful Narragansetts were his enemies; his tribe desired an interchange of commodities; while the emigrants obtained peace, security, and a profitable commerce.

On the third of March, a south wind had brought warm and fair weather. "The birds sang in the woods most pleasantly." But spring had far advanced before the mortality grew less. It was afterward remarked, with modest gratitude, that, of the survivors, very many lived to an extreme old age. A shelter, not less than comfort, had been wanting; the living had been scarce able to bury the dead; the well too few to take care of the sick. At the season of greatest distress there were but seven able to render assistance. Carver, the governor, at his first landing, lost a son; by his care for the common good, he shortened his own days; and his wife, brokenhearted, followed him in death. Brewster was the life and stay of the plantation; but, he being its ruling elder, William Bradford, its historian, was chosen Carver's successor. The record of misery was kept by the graves of the governor and half the company.