THE PILGRIMS’ FIRST
CHRISTMAS
THE PILGRIMS’ FIRST
CHRISTMAS
BY
JOSEPHINE PITTMAN SCRIBNER
THE PILGRIM PRESS
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT, 1913
BY LUTHER H. CARY
THE·PLIMPTON·PRESS
NORWOOD·MASS·U·S·A
THE
PILGRIMS’ FIRST CHRISTMAS
THE
PILGRIMS’ FIRST CHRISTMAS
∵
IT was a bleak December day in theyear 1620. All day long, the Mayflowerstruggled along the coastamidst the rain and snow, her rudderbroken, her masts split in threepieces, and heavy seas dashing overher bow. The men had been calledto man the oars and all were filledwith anxiety and grief and apprehensionof unknown perils to be faced.It was as if the Almighty would trythem, as he tried Abraham. Whatcould now sustain them but the spiritof God and his grace? If they lookedbehind them there was the mightyocean, which they had passed and[8]which was now as a main bar andgulf to separate them from all thecivil parts of the world. If theylooked forward, what could feed theirhopes; what could they see but theweather-beaten face of the wilderness,the summer gone and the wholecountry full of wild beasts and wildmen? And what multitudes theremight be of them, they knew not.Locked in the airless cabins, withthe hatches battened down, were thewomen and children. Twenty littlechildren to amuse and keep quiet,while mother hearts were heavy withfear and terror. Moving among themwas an English maid, divinely fairin her beauty. No need for her topaint her cheeks of damask and rose.In her strength and beauty she wasas an angel of light to the homesick[9]Pilgrim women. The day had beenlong and dreary to Mary Chilton.All night she had dreamed and allday she had thought of dear andmighty England; of the lanes andthe fields and the songs of the birds,the faces of the neighbors going about,and the church at the end of thevillage street with the ivy on thetower. The tears started to hereyes. She turned away to hide them;but they did not escape the noticeof John Winslow, who was bendingove