THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
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first women colonists! Many of them were nobly born and delicately nurtured, when, for conscience’ sake, they left home and friends and native land, to brave the dangers of a long voyage, the hardships of an hostile country and of an inhospitable clime. We who are the heirs of their labors and sacrifices should rejoice to render our tribute of honor to the Pilgrim Mothers.
It may be asked why we chose to celebrate the landing of the Pilgrims on the 23d of December instead of the 22d, the day honored by the men. Simply because the 23d was the actual day and date of the landing. You see men cannot even fix a date correctly without the aid of women. I carefully studied the journal of John Bradford, who was a young man on board the “Mayflower,” afterward the famous Governor of Massachusetts. He kept a careful record of the events of each day. On the 2 ist land having been sighted, a boat was sent to reconnoiter the shore. On the 22d the day being stormy, the ship lay off the coast, and the only event recorded is that a wife, her name is not given, descended into the valley of the shadow of death. On the 23d, the day we celebrated, there landed on Plymouth Rock thirty-two women accompanied by sixty-nine men and children. There was one advantage in holding our feast on the day after the feast given by the men, and that was it gave us the woman’s privilege of the last word. I carefully looked over the speeches given at the New England dinners, but as usual could find no mention whatsoever of anything that women had done. A noted educator spoke of New England as “she,” which, considering how all things feminine were ignored, seems a piece of presumption. The most appropriate toast given was that of one honored gentleman whose theme was “Their Selfishness.”
This forgetfulness of all that women have done for our country is only of a piece with the usual proceedings at those masculine feasts. Year after year they have assembled to do honor to men alone. Some time ago the late James G. Blaine, in an address at a New England dinner, said: “Men settled and built up the country, men struggled and labored; these, good men were the progenitors of a great race.” As if men alone did everything—settled the country, founded the families and reared the children.
On that bleak December day, two hundred and seventy-two years ago, one hundred and one persons came ashore on the cruel New England coast, of whom only forty-one were men, and yet, with the usual modesty of their sex, in talking of the deeds of these first settlers, their sons have followed the advice given last fall by the leader of one of the political parties and “claimed everything;” whereas, the real heroines and martyrs of those days were the women. What hardships confronted them in the awful winter that followed! Only try to fancy what they must have suffered! Living in a few huts—they could not be called houses—on that ice bound coast. Think of the storms that howled about their frail habitations, the snows that swept over them, the bitter cold that froze them! How helpless they were! On the one hand the inhospitable forest that encircled them, the lurking place of wild beasts and hostile Indians; on the other hand the wide ocean that stretched between them and their former homes. How chill they must have been with only open fires fed with green wood, with no clothing fitted for the rigors of that climate, with not enough food for them and their children! What these women must have had to bear of hardship, misery and home-sickness! No wonder they died and their deaths were scarce recorded. Bradford does not mention even the death of his own wife.
And then it must be remembered, as Fanny Fern long ago wittily said, “These women had not only to endure all that the Pilgrim fathers had to endure, but they had to endure the Pilgrim fathers also.” And these worthy men must have been very trying, as all know that a cold house and a poor dinner does not conduce to any man’s amiability, and they were so censorious. A later chronicle records with displeasure that a certain Mrs. Johnson was “given to unseemly pride of apparel,” in that she wore whalebone in her sleeves. The Pilgrim fathers went a great deal further than their sons would like to go today, for they sat in solemn conclave to decide how many
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