(This post is a follow-up to an introductory post about my personal genealogical journey.)
When
do you think about your ancestors?
I
never thought much about mine until I got older in life. But now, I think about
them often. Any time I face a challenge or a bit of misfortune, I use my
thoughts of them to trigger an attitude adjustment. Microwave on the blink?
Raining outside? Car refuses to start? Before I can fully form a proper curse
word, I think first about the millions of people in the world who wish they had
my problems. And then I consider my ancestors.
Oh, I
realize they likely would smirk and maybe feel a tad embarrassed, comparing my
troubles to the challenges they faced getting me where I am today. Fortunately,
I’ve done enough genealogical research to know some of them pretty well,
despite the distance of the ages. Many, of course, left no paper trail. But
some have well-documented life stories. And four of them in particular always
give me pause when I ponder the hardships and the terrifying challenges they
most certainly endured.
On
September 6 of 1620, those four were among 130 travelers crammed aboard a small
vessel about the length of a Boeing 737 and only twice as wide headed west from
Plymouth, England, into the Atlantic, well aware their departure had come too
late in the season to provide high prospects of a successful voyage. They would
almost certainly face some winter weather on the high seas. One of them had a
second wife who was eight months pregnant, adding to the fears she would almost
certainly give birth during the two-month trip.
Think
about your last Southwest Airlines flight to Las Vegas, then imagine spending
two months on that plane—but sailing on the ocean. And, instead of arriving at
a modern terminal with food and lodging, all you could anticipate on the end of
your voyage would be the unknown threats of a hostile new world. But they were
eager to accept the risks for the potential reward of opportunity for a freer
and more prosperous life.
My lineage from Stephen Hopkins as configured by the WikiTree Relationship Finder tool.
Heading
my family’s representation were my two tenth great-grandfathers, Thomas Rogers and Stephen Hopkins. They didn’t
know each other when they joined the expedition, and they had no way of knowing
they would have grandchildren who would marry and bring their families
together. Although both were religious like all men of their era, these two men
boarded the Mayflower with dramatically different backgrounds.
Thomas
Rogers, 49, was a legitimate Pilgrim separatist who had lived the last few
years in Holland seeking religious freedom. He traveled with his 17-year-old
son, Joseph Rogers, leaving his 47-year-old wife and my tenth great-grandmother,
Alice Cosford Rogers to wait in Holland for Thomas and Joseph to establish a
home in the new world. She would never see it, dying in Leiden, Zuid-Holland,
the Netherlands in 1622. Ironically, Thomas was destined to precede her in
death as one of the first to perish at Plymouth Colony during the harsh winter
of 1621. But Joseph would survive to become my ninth great-grandfather. Joseph's son
Thomas would marry Stephen's granddaughter, and their third child, Hannah
Rogers, would become my seventh great-grandmother.
In
contrast with Thomas Rogers, 39-year-old Stephen Hopkins boarded the ship as
one of the adventurers using the Pilgrims to seek his fortune in the new world.
He would be considered one of the “strangers” among the Pilgrim “saints”—as the
crew of the Mayflower later described their passengers. And Stephen was leading
an entourage. His group included his 14-year-old daughter Constance, who would
become my ninth great-grandmother, her 12-year-old brother Giles and their pregnant
stepmother, 35-year-old Elizabeth Fisher Hopkins. It also included his
two-year-old daughter, Damaris, born after Stephen had married Elizabeth three
years earlier following the death of my tenth great-grandmother, Mary Kent
Hopkins at the age of 30. Besides his family, Stephen also accepted
responsibility for two young indentured servants eager to learn his trade as a
tanner: Edward Leister, about 20, and Edward Doty, 21.
But
Hopkins was bringing more than a large family aboard the ship. He carried with
him the priceless commodity of experience. Stephen was the only Mayflower
passenger who had previously lived in North America, having sailed for
England’s Jamestown Colony a decade before on a trip as famous for its mishaps
as its successes. His knowledge of the land and its inhabitants would prove
vital to the military and political leaders of the Mayflower expedition,
Myles Standish and William Bradford, in the months to come.
Stephen
Hopkins easily ranks as the most fascinating and inspiring member of my family
tree. Although Stephen never wrote a memoir like Standish or Bradford, recent
genealogical research has lifted the curtain on his exploits, prompting the
publication of several books about his contribution to the creation of our
nation.
Notably,
Mayflower historian Caleb Johnson dug deep to prove that the Stephen
Hopkins who arrived aboard the Mayflower in 1620 was indeed the same Stephen
Hopkins who had been at Jamestown ten years before. Johnson’s 2007 book, Here
Shall I Die Ashore, provides a detailed biography of Stephen and
verification of the research. In addition, Johnson maintains a vital web site
about Mayflower research at Caleb Johnson’s Mayflower History.
Although
Johnson counts nine Mayflower passengers among his ancestors, Stephen
Hopkins is not one of them. But Johnson’s meticulous research in the 1990s
clarified a lot of information about Hopkins, and Johnson recounts his
genealogical journey in the introduction to his Hopkins biography.
He
describes the Hopkins personal adventure as “extraordinarily fascinating”
adding: “He just seems to have been everywhere and experienced everything,
whether it was a shipwreck in Bermuda, a near shipwreck on the shoals of Cape
Cod, a shallop-wreck on Clark’s Island, a hurricane or a water spout, a death
sentence, or a fine for selling beer too expensively, meeting Pocahontas or
housing Squanto, signing up for the Pequot War, or heading off on a diplomatic
mission to the great Wampanoag sachem Massasoit Ousemaquin.”
More
recently, San Diego attorney and Mayflower history buff Jonathan Mack published
another biography in 2020 entitled A Stranger Among Saints: Stephen Hopkins,
the Man Who Survived Jamestown and Saved Plymouth.
Also
this year, Stephen received the fictional treatment in The London Years of
Stephen Hopkins, with retired police investigator Michael McCarthy
imagining what might have happened in the years between 1615 and 1620 when
Stephen returned to London from Jamestown to collect his children before
returning to North America.
Grandmother
Constance also has been fictionalized in a young adult romance novel entitled Constance:
A Story of Early Plymouth by Patricia Clapp. And, when National
Geographic produced its 2015 television mini-series about the Pilgrims, Saints
& Strangers, Stephen emerged as a central character portrayed by the Irish
actor Ray Stevenson.
Stephen
Hopkins was baptized on April 30 of 1581 in the Church of All Saints at Upper
Clatford in Hampshire, England, near the Anton River, born the son of John and
Elizabeth Williams Hopkins. More details about his lineage and life are
available with sources and discussion on his profile at the WikiTree
genealogical web site and at the web site for his heritage society. Stephen had two half-siblings born to his father and
first wife, but he was the first child of John and his second wife. Not much is
known about the lives of those two half-siblings, William and Alice. Stephen
also had a younger sister named Susanna, but not much is known about her
either. The family had lived as farmers in this area for several generations.
When Stephen was five or six, however, the family relocated to the city of Winchester,
where John apparently served as an archer in the local militia, according to
Johnson’s research. John’s sudden death in 1593 left Elizabeth as a widow to
tend her four children.
Reviewing
John’s estate records, Johnson concluded that the family likely lived
comfortably enough but it is not clear what John did for work in Winchester.
Because his stepmother did not remarry, 12-year-old Stephen likely became an
apprentice of some sort. Although Stephen does not emerge into any written
records again until 1605 with the baptism of his first daughter, Elizabeth, it
is possible to conclude a few things about his character development during
those missing 12 years based upon known facts about his later years. Elizabeth
was destined to die in 1613, about the same time as her mother while Stephen
was still at Jamestown.
Stephen
obviously had ambition and curiosity because he somehow learned to read well
enough to land a job as a minister’s clerk and psalmist on that 1609 voyage to
Jamestown. He also was known to have a trade as a tanner by the time he joined
the Mayflower expedition, so he must have learned that profession
somehow in his youth. It is also clear that young Stephen learned to be
articulate and likely boasted a quick wit, while also harboring an independent
and rebellious streak. Let’s not forget courage, a quality assumed for anyone
willing to accept the risk of the voyages he did.
Outspoken
later when organizing a mutiny on Bermuda and convincing enough to talk his way
off the gallows, Stephen also was known as enough of a Puritan to fit with the
Separatist Pilgrims—the “Saints” of the new colony—and that distinction would
have been a dangerous admission in the religious turmoil of early Seventeenth
Century England. It also reveals a thoughtful side to Stephen because Puritans
actually ranked as the intellectual skeptics of their time, challenging the
established religious orders in the face of dangerous retaliation and
conducting church services that often sounded more like philosophical lectures
than religious zealotry.
Stephen
also likely enjoyed strong drink and could resort to violence, based on later
court records from Plymouth where he ran afoul of the law for battery on one
occasion and was fined for overcharging on liquor as a tavern keeper of some sort.
I have uncovered no known physical descriptions or portraits of Stephen, but
it’s safe to assume he was athletic and imposing enough to attract followers
for some of the more dangerous missions when he later served as a leader. He
could not have survived Bermuda and Jamestown, for example, without an ability
to handle physical challenges.
Jamestown
called to Stephen Hopkins in 1609 in the form of an opportunity while he and
his family were living in Hursley, Hampshire. His occupation there is unknown,
but it is believed that his wife’s family had operated a tavern so he might
have been involved as a shopkeeper. One record indicates an eviction by a
“widow Kent” around this time, but no details have survived. He also might have
been plying his trade as a tanner. But it was his ability to read that caught
the eye of a local minister, Reverend Richard Buck, who was signed to join a
relief mission bringing a new governor to Jamestown.
Buck
needed a clerk and someone to read scripture—a “psalmist”—and he offered
Stephen that job as a seven-year indenture. Although it meant leaving his wife
and three children in England, the indenture also offered Stephen the
opportunity for something he likely would never have by staying in England: The
chance to become a landholder. So, he climbed aboard a ship called the Sea
Venture on June 2, 1609, with Reverend Buck and Sir Thomas Gates, the new
governor for the Virginia Company at Jamestown, established just two years
before.
The
fleet of seven ships plus the flagship Sea Venture encountered the storm
on July 25, 1609, according to the journal of survivor Silvester Jourdaine,
published in 1613. Separated from the fleet, the flagship floundered several
days before running aground July 28 on one of the Bermuda islands. Thus,
Stephen Hopkins also figures in the origin of one of our most enigmatic
scientific questions: What is so dangerous about the so-called Bermuda
Triangle, or the Devil’s Triangle as it’s also been known through the centuries
since. Besides Hopkins, Buck, Gates and Jourdaine, the company of 150 included
other notable individuals, including the admiral and privateer Sir George
Somers, later acclaimed as the founder of Bermuda. It was Somers who had taken
the helm during the storm and sought salvation by deliberately driving the ship
onto the rocks of what would be called Somers Island.
While the rest of the fleet managed to sail on and reach
Jamestown some 600 miles to the east, the Sea Venture, its crew and passengers
found themselves stranded on the uninhabited island that had been discovered by
the Spanish in 1505, more than 100 years before. Initially they must have felt
deep despair at their plight, but that quickly changed to great relief,
according to the most detailed account of this adventure provided in a lengthy
letter sent in 1610 from Jamestown back to England by another passenger,
William Strachey. Although never colonized by the Spanish, the island chain had
become home to a vast community of wild pigs that descended from swine that had
escaped from intermittent visits by ships headed to Spanish America. Besides
the pork, the Sea Venture survivors discovered a bounty of food on
Bermuda, ranging from sea turtles to birds and fish.
Under the leadership of the 55-year-old Somers and the
24-year-old Gates, the castaways quickly worked to build shelter and began
construction on two small boats they hoped to sail to Jamestown once winter had
passed on Bermuda. The group numbered about 150 and included women and some
children. They found the conditions on Bermuda so welcoming that their leaders
would face mutiny on three occasions during the next ten months while working
for departure to Jamestown, according to Strachey’s letter. None of them wanted
to leave!
They had heard stories about the rugged conditions in
Jamestown and contrasted those with the life they suddenly enjoyed on Bermuda.
In fact, those tales had not been exaggerated. While the Sea Venture
castaways were enjoying their winter on Bermuda—dining on sea turtle, Red
snapper and wild boar—Jamestown would see 400 colonists perish from hunger,
disease and native hostilities. The colony was close to collapse, despite the
arrival of the other ships from the relief fleet. It suffered a fundamental
problem based on its very reason for existence.
The Virginia Company had not initially intended Jamestown
to survive as a true colony. Rather than sending farmers and families, the
investors filled the colony with adventurers determined to seek the kinds of
gold and precious metals the Spaniards had been taking from Mexico and South
America. By the winter of 1609, however, Jamestown’s leadership had finally
concluded Virginia had no gold to offer.
In the meantime, the colony’s inhabitants had never
learned to even feed themselves, relying instead first on trade with the
natives and then theft or extortion for deliveries of food. Of course,
relations with the tribes in Virginia quickly deteriorated. It proved dangerous
for anyone to even venture beyond the palisades for firewood. Although
Jamestown was destined to survive—barely—and become the oldest continuing English
settlement in North America, its beginnings would contrast dramatically with
those later established by the Mayflower voyage to Massachusetts where
investors hoped to plant a true colonial outpost with families and industry.
And Stephen Hopkins would be able to contrast his Jamestown experiences with
those to come later in Plymouth, a decade into the future.
While Jamestown struggled in the winter of 1609, however,
Stephen and his fellow Bermuda survivors grew restless. Very quickly one small
group declared their independence from Gates and Somers, announcing their plans
to move into the forest and establish a colony there. Gates elected to punish
them with banishment, basically ordering them to go ahead and do it. For some
reason unexplained in the Strachey account, the group decided to rejoin their
comrades after a few days by themselves. Perhaps their lack of a blacksmith or
carpenter among them had diminished their ambitions. But they had apparently
provided Stephen with an idea that nearly led to his execution as the second
mutineer.
“A
fellow who had much knowledge in the Scriptures and could reason well therein,”
wrote Strachey of my great-grandpa Stephen, identifying him as the next
mutineer. The 28-year-old Stephen had teamed with two other confederates to
argue against the continued leadership of Gates. They claimed his authority had
ended with the shipwreck, freeing the group to establish its own colony on
Bermuda. But these arguments failed to impress the governor, who ordered
manacles for Stephen, placed him on trial and sentenced him to hang.
“But
so penitent he was, and made so much moan, alleging the ruin of his wife and
children in this his trespass,” summarized Strachey about Stephen’s pleadings
that prompted forgiveness by Gates. For descendants like myself, I wish
Strachey had provided a more detailed transcript. I suspect Stephen’s position as
the minister’s clerk and his value as a psalmist must have helped sway his
fate. Strachey emphasized how much the company appreciated their Sunday worship
services along with morning and evening prayers. He must have presented a
sincere image of repentance. And it seems clear from his later encounters with
authority that this experience likely humbled him into a more diplomatic rebel.
Whatever the case, Stephen dodged the hangman on Bermuda and would live on to
join the Mayflower ten years later.
The
third mutineer had no such luck. According to Strachey, this fellow provided
lots of mischief on Bermuda that ultimately ended with a sentence to hang.
Instead of begging for his life, he begged to be shot instead, and this time
Governor Gates was happy to oblige. Shortly after that final incident, Somers
and Gates completed the construction of two small boats capable of making the
short hop from Bermuda to complete the voyage to Jamestown. While on Bermuda,
the group had conducted one marriage and welcomed the birth of two children. They
set sail on May 10, 1610, and arrived at Jamestown on May 24.
Immediately
the group realized a serious mistake: They should have brought food with them
from Bermuda. Conditions in Jamestown proved so disheartening that Gates very
quickly made a decision to abandon the colony and take the 60 Jamestown survivors
north to the fishing grounds off Newfoundland aboard the four vessels
available. Just as they set to sail away, however, another relief fleet arrived
from England with a new governor for the colony.
By
the middle of June, Gates had surrendered his leadership to Thomas West, known
as Lord De La Warr, the new governor sent from the Virginia Company with three
ships and enough food for a year. Gates would remain in Virginia to explore,
while Somers was dispatched back to Bermuda to gather wild hogs for
supplementing Jamestown’s livestock. Somers would die of illness in Bermuda.
And Stephen would remain to serve out his seven-year-indenture while becoming
an eyewitness to a dramatic authoritarian transition at the colony by De La
Warr—whose title would become the name of the state of Delaware—and his
successors.
By
May of 1611, the colony had a new governor in Sir Thomas Dale, sent there to govern
with an iron fist. In the process Dale treated Stephen to a real show of power
and authority, executing an estimated dozen colonists. Some of them burned at
the stake and other starved to death while tied to trees. Dale punished minor
infractions with whippings and the stocks.
At
the same time, back in England, William Shakespeare had written The Tempest,
possibly using the Strachey letter about the Bermuda shipwreck as an
inspiration. Stephen Hopkins descendants
usually cite the Bard’s creation of the Stephano character in that play as a
poetic reference to Strachey’s account of Stephen’s attempt at a mutiny on
Bermuda. In Shakespeare’s shipwreck tale, Stephano is described as a “drunken
butler” who plots to take control of the island. If that sounds familiar, you
can see why Hopkins descendants enjoy The Tempest.
Of
course, Hopkins was still in Jamestown while audiences in London sampled
Shakespeare’s version of the Bermuda adventure. Continuing as the clerk and
psalmist for Minister Buck, Stephen likely figured prominently in many famous events,
including the marriage of John Rolfe to the native princess known as Pocahontas.
Indeed, Rolfe had been with Stephen on Bermuda, so it seems likely they were
acquainted. But the written record of Jamestown includes no mention of Stephen,
so we are left to speculate on how events of those times affected his outlook
on life. Then, when news of his wife’s death in 1613 reached him, Stephen won
permission to return to England and resume care for his remaining children,
Constance and Giles. It appears he departed in the Spring of 1616.
Back
in England, Stephen left few official records to mark his movements. One record
cites his marriage to Elizabeth Fisher on February 19, 1617. Researchers have
not found any record of the birth of their first child, daughter Damaris, who
also arrived aboard the Mayflower but died in Plymouth Colony in 1621.
Despite the lack of records, novelist Michael McCarthy has offered a likely
scenario for Stephen’s four years between Jamestown and the Mayflower in
his speculative account about The London Years of Stephen Hopkins.
McCarthy
assumes that Stephen’s two surviving children, Constance and Giles, would have
taken residence with his brother pending his return from Virginia. The writer
speculates that Stephen likely gathered them from the family home in Hursley,
Southhampton before relocating to London where he hoped to use his connections
to land another position aboard a mission back to Virginia. Besides working his
trade as a tanner, Stephen also likely participated in trading deals while
hanging around the port to gather information about future opportunities.
As
a religious Puritan, he likely attended church with the London contingent of
the group that had spawned a separatist movement with parishioners then living
in Holland—the group that would eventually become known as the “Saints” aboard
the Mayflower. McCarthy provides a speculative romance narrative in
which the widower and single father Stephen meets Elizabeth when buying baked
goods in London.
It
is a matter of record, however, that Stephen and his entourage were aboard the Mayflower
docked in Southampton by August of 1620, awaiting the arrival of another ship,
the Speedwell, bringing passengers from the Holland group of Separatist
“saints” to join the London-based group headed for Virginia. Researcher Johnson
notes that Stephen’s large entourage of family and servants reflects both his
status and his opportunity for success in the New World. Under the company’s
partnership agreement, Stephen would receive title to more acreage for his
wife, children and servants while adding young and capable colonists to the
venture.
At
the age of 39, Stephen would have been considered a prime candidate for joining
the expedition. Of course, the Mayflower investors expected a financial
return from this enterprise. Instead of seeking gold like those who financed
the Jamestown adventure, however, the Mayflower backers expected their
colony to prosper in natural resources, timber, animal furs and agricultural goods.
Eventually,
the New England colonies would do exactly that, but the financial return would
not come as quickly as anticipated. At any rate, the Hopkins gang waited in
London for the group from Holland, which would include my other Mayflower
grandfather, Thomas Rogers and his son, Joseph Rogers, destined to become my
ninth-great-grandfather.
My
tenth-great-grandfather Thomas Rogers was born about 1571 in Watford,
Northamptonshire, England, the son of a William Rogers remembered as a farmer
in the area. Records show no surname for William’s wife, Eleanor. But they do
reveal a marriage in Watford on October 4, 1597, between Thomas and my
tenth-great-grandmother, 24-year-old Alice Cosford. She was the daughter of
another local farmer named George Cosford. Thomas and Alice had two children
who died in infancy just after the turn of the new century. But Joseph’s 1602
birth in Watford would give them a surviving eldest destined to make his mark
in the New World.
Information
about the Rogers family has been spotty over the years, but recent research by
members of the Thomas Rogers Society has filled some gaps. Although his English
occupation remains unclear, he obviously became educated and religious as he
grew to manhood in the village about 50 miles north of London. Although clearly
connected somehow with the separatist Puritans, Thomas remained in Watford until
at least 1613 as verified by the births there of three more children following
Joseph: John in 1606, Elizabeth in 1608 and Margaret in 1613.
By
then, the first group of separatists had made their move to Holland some five
years earlier, so the Thomas Rogers family would have been a late arrival,
leaving descendants uncertain about the degree of his religious affiliation
with the separatists. Did he join them in Holland more due to business
interests than religious rebellion? Whatever the motive for his connection, it appears
clear he had one when he purchased a home in Leiden, the Netherlands, in 1617,
near the homes of separatist leaders and eventual fellow Mayflower
passengers William Brewster and William Bradford. Unlike other separatists,
Thomas Rogers also became a citizen of Leiden in 1618 where he apparently
enjoyed a thriving business as a merchant dealing in high-end textiles known as
“camlet.”
To
fully understand the Rogers legacy, however, a little historical context should
first apply to explain the religious and commercial issues that would have prompted
a man like Thomas to abandon his homeland and seek opportunities in Holland, or
later the New World across the Atlantic Ocean. The religious differences of the
era were complex, to say the least, with controversies and violence raging for
nearly 100 years. That upheaval stemmed in good part from invention of the
printing press about 1440 and the subsequent availability of religious or
philosophical literature to the middle classes. They read. They thought. They
debated. And, then they started fighting.
You
can spend endless hours researching all the twists turns of the Protestant
Reformation movement that eventually spawned the Mayflower‘s voyage to
what would become New England. I’ll provide a summary here—just enough to help
readers understand the forces at play by 1620. The movement began a century
earlier with growing disillusionment about the abuses and corruption in the
Roman Catholic church. Given the power to read scripture on their own and
interpret the so-called “Word of God” for themselves, groups of dissenters
broke from the central Roman authority to create new Christian communities
observing different and more localized traditions. In his break from Rome,
England’s King Henry VIII added a new twist with creation of the Church of
England.
By
1600, however, many English churchgoers had become disillusioned with the lack
of true reform in the church. Although they never used the term themselves,
these groups became known as the Puritans because they advocated the goal of
purifying the English church of Roman Catholic practices. But they, too, had
divisions. Some believed that separation from the church would prove the only
way to practice their brand of religion. Others rejected these Separatists and
sought to reform the church from within.
During
the next half-century, however, both groups would find a more effective escape
by moving to the New World, where they hoped to pursue the twin goals of
religious freedom and commercial prosperity. The result was what’s known as the
Puritan Great Migration, with 80,000 colonists leaving England for the New
World between 1620 and 1640. The passengers aboard the Mayflower would
serve as the vanguard for that relocation.
This map from the National Geographic Society illustrates the extent of the Puritan Colony.
Before
attempting to tame a new and savage land, however, some of the English
Separatists tried what must have seemed the simpler route of relocating just
across the North Sea in Holland. Indeed, Holland must have loomed as an
attractive alternative. Besides offering an already civilized society and
culture, the nation practiced religious tolerance while becoming a commercial
center for textiles and other industries. And the port city of Leiden had
emerged as a magnet for commerce providing many Separatists with opportunities
to evolve from their farming backgrounds into more urban trades. Textiles
proved attractive with at least a dozen of the Mayflower pilgrims
listing associated occupations.
As
camlet merchants, grandfathers Thomas and Joseph Rogers were among them. Camlet
is a fine, woven fabric originally made from combining coarse but tough camel
hair with silk. By 1620, the Rogers family was among 300 Separatists thriving
in Leiden but also considering the more dramatic change of relocating across
the Atlantic Ocean. Coordinating with associates back in England, the
Separatist leadership hatched a plan to sail two ships to a spot in the
northern part of the Virginia colony. Leaders selected 45 members of the Leiden
group to return to England aboard a ship called the Speedwell and
rendezvous with the Mayflower for the voyage across the sea.
At
the age of 49, Thomas Rogers ranked as the third eldest among those selected by
leaders trying to fill the ranks with young and vital recruits. But Thomas had
an eighteen-year-old son in Joseph, so possibly they joined as a package deal.
The rest of the Rogers family remained behind in Leiden with plans to cross
after establishment of a North American colony.
Records show that Thomas sold his Leiden house on April 1, 1620 for 300
Guilders, accepting a loss of 175 Guilders from the 475 he had paid three years
before. Thomas and Joseph left aboard the Speedwell on July 22, 1620, to
meet the Mayflower in Southampton, England. My great-grandmother Alice
Cosford Rogers would die in 1622 in Leiden without ever making the trip to the
colony her husband and son helped build.
Had
the Speedwell been seaworthy, North American history might have unfolded
very differently. At least the voyage of the Pilgrims would have unfolded very
differently. For starters, the two vessels would have departed Southampton in
good time to sail the Atlantic Ocean in summer. They likely would have managed
to land at their true target of what is now the New York area, then in the
northern section of the Virginia Colony. They would have arrived in time to
build suitable shelter for the winter of 1620-21 and perhaps grow some quick
crops to supplement hunting and fishing for food.
But
those possibilities vanished on August 5 when the crew of the Speedwell
discovered a leak shortly after leaving Southampton, forcing a detour to Dartmouth
for repairs. They tried again on August 23, but only made it 300 miles before
the leaking Speedwell forced them into Plymouth for further assessment.
The leaders decided to abandon the Speedwell, allowing some passengers to crowd
onto the Mayflower for a single vessel voyage that did not begin until
September 6.
In an article in 2017, The Orange County (California) Register included this drawing to demonstrate the scene aboard the Mayflower as it crossed the Atlantic. And, in an August 2020 article about the voyage,
the UK newspaper The Daily Mail offered this written description of the now-iconic vessel:
“Based on comparable craft of the day, it was probably about
80ft long and 24ft wide, with three decks: one for supplies, a gun deck and the
remaining space for the passengers. To put this in perspective, one of the
billionaire businessman Roman Abramovich’s superyachts is 590ft long — more
than seven times the length of the Mayflower. Those on board would have
slept on the floor, huddled together, unable to escape the stink of unwashed
bodies and fetid breath, and the rank odours of vomit and stale wine.”Abandonment
of the Speedwell left 102 passengers crowded into a space about 50-feet
by 25-feet, with another 20 crew members on board. By now, Elizabeth Hopkins
was ready to pop, and she did give birth aboard the Mayflower to a son
they named Oceanus. Although she lacked privacy for the birth, Elizabeth did
enjoy an abundance of midwives, if you want to consider the silver lining. Thus,
Stephen increased the passenger population to 103 while adding opportunity for
further shares of what would become the Plymouth company.
It
seems obvious that Stephen and my grandfather Thomas Rogers would become
acquainted, as would my grandmother Constance Hopkins and grandfather Joseph
Rogers. But the written record is devoid of such personal detail about the
voyage. I must assume Stephen shared many tales of his previous Jamestown
adventures with what would have been an intensely curious audience aboard the
ship.
Things
grew interesting when the group neared the coast of Cape Cod and realized they
had arrived off course to the north of their target. They were somewhat
familiar with Cape Cod because it had been mapped by exploration parties from
Jamestown. But the sighting of land off course created political problems for
the group.
They
immediately realized they had no government approval to settle in this
location. In his book about Stephen, Caleb Johnson speculates how this
recognition must have affected him given his problems a decade earlier in
Bermuda. In organizing the Bermuda mutiny, Stephen had argued that the
shipwreck there had eliminated any order of authority from their governor
because he only had jurisdiction at Jamestown. That situation had ended with
him nearly hanged for mutiny in Bermuda.
“Stephen
Hopkins must have had some serious déjà vu when this began to unfold,” Johnson
writes. He continues: “With Stephen’s consultation no doubt, the Pilgrims
arrived at a very novel solution.”
That
solution was creation of the Mayflower Compact, now considered one of
the most important documents in North American history and a prelude to both
the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States.
Drafted November 11 on the ship before any landing, the Mayflower Compact
was a simple legal contract between the signees and their elected leadership
acknowledging their authority to construct a government in their new colony.
Details of that government were left for later, but the contract of
self-government would become a landmark for colonial organization. Stephen was
the fourteenth passenger to sign it, and Thomas Rogers the eighteenth out of 41—all
of the adult males. As part of the deal, the group elected 36-year-old John
Carver to serve as their first governor. He signed it first. Like my
grandfather Thomas Rogers, Carver would not survive the first year.
Anchored
off the tip of Cape Cod aboard the Mayflower with winter already under
way, the group knew they needed to explore the area to locate the best spot for
building shelter. Stephen played a crucial role in several small exploration
expeditions. The group’s military commander, Myles Standish, led a squad of 16
men into the forest on November 15 with Stephen appointed as advisor. They
would quickly learn that the native tribe at this initial location—the Nauset—already
had experienced European contact. And they hadn’t liked it!
Several
had been captured six years before and taken as slaves to Spain. The Nauset had
avenged the kidnappings in 1617 with the massacre of the crew aboard a French
ship that had stopped to trade. Now the Nauset watched as another group of
armed Europeans began nosing around in their territory. Tensions increased more
dramatically when the group chanced upon a hidden stash of Nauset corn and took
it, knowing they would need more food to survive the winter. But the natives
decided to bide their time before organizing a strike.
In
the meantime, under the deadline pressure of increasing winter weather, the
group debated its best options for location of a colony where they could build
shelter and enjoy access to fresh water at a minimum. From their headquarters
aboard the Mayflower, the group dispatched eighteen men on December 6 in
a small boat to circle Cape Cod in search of the best spot. That group included
Stephen and one of his servants, Edward Doty. After the group came ashore in
one spot and camped for the night, the Nauset struck at first light, sending a
barrage of arrows into the camp. The Pilgrims fired muskets and fled. None of
the 30 natives nor any of the 18 Pilgrims sustained an injury in this first
confrontation.
By
December 12, the group had suffered through a storm and a small wreck that
required repairs to their boat. But they also had come ashore at what is now
Plymouth Harbor and decided this location could serve them best. The Mayflower
followed on December 15 and anchored there while the group began its rigorous
job of creating a home on the shore. Because Plymouth had been their final
English port before departure, they adopted that for the name of their new
home. By December 23, a construction crew had come ashore, and the hard work
began. Although the group’s Pilgrim contingent refused to work on Sundays, they
also refused to celebrate Christmas as any kind of holiday considering it a
creation of the Pope and his Catholic Church.
The
group divided their townsite into 19 plots, based on family size, in two rows
of houses with a street between. Since standard lots measured 50 feet in depth
with 8 feet of length for each family member, the biographer Johnson calculated
that Stephen likely received an initial house and garden plot of 64 feet by 50
feet to accommodate him, his wife, his four children and his two servants. But
first they all pitched in to build a common house that measured 20-by-20.
Finished by the middle of January 1621, that structure would serve as storage,
hospital and shelter while individual homes were built.
As
they continued to build, the weather grew worse and food supplies grew short.
By end of March, half of the Mayflower’s passengers had died—including
my great grandfather Thomas Rogers—due to a combination of ailments including
pneumonia and scurvy. Burials occurred after dark to prevent any natives from
realizing the vulnerability of the group, even though the group had not seen
any sign since landing. Stephen’s losses that first winter included the
children Damaris and Oceanus. By March 21, however, the group had managed to
deliver all passengers from the Mayflower into the shelters ashore. By
then, some of them had been living aboard the ship for nine months!
With
the weather starting to warm, it was inevitable they would have contact with
the natives. On February 17, Stephen accompanied militia chief Myles Standish
on a brief trip to attempt a meeting with natives they had spotted from the
camp. But those natives fled into the woods. Then, on March 16, they received a
thorough shock when a solitary native entered the camp carrying a bow with two
arrows, walked down the street and spoke in spotty English: “Welcome
Englishmen.”
His
name was Samoset, a chief of the Sagamore tribe who had learned some English
from trading vessels that had reached the area sporadically. Attracting a
crowd, he was about to provide a history lesson with tales about the area they
now claimed as their colony. He spent that first night in the Hopkins home as a
guest of the only colonist with previous experience in the New World. Samoset
would become one of two natives crucial to the success of the colony, and both
would forge important ties with Stephen.
From
Samoset, the Pilgrims learned they actually had landed in a place known as
Patuxet to the natives. It was vacant because its previous inhabitants all had died
of disease just four years before. Samoset also identified their nearest
neighbors as the Wampanoag tribe. Their leader was named Massasoit, and he
commanded a force of about 60 warriors. The Pilgrims did not know it yet, but
this location and their timing would serve them well because the diminished
Wampanoag felt vulnerable to attack from other regional tribes. Quickly,
Massasoit would decide to use them as powerful allies, rather than enemies,
based on the scouting report returned by Samoset about the weapons in the
Pilgrims’ camp.
As
a result, Samoset returned March 22 with another native who would become even
more vital in the colony’s future: Squanto. This 35-year-old native
boasted a dramatic personal story that sounds like the plot for a good
adventure film—and that occurred in 1994 with production of Squanto: A
Warrior’s Tale. It also left Squanto as the perfect ambassador between
the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag.
Kidnapped
in 1614 and taken to Spain as a slave, Squanto had lived in England for a while
after his escape, learning to speak reliable English! He had returned to the
area just the year before on a trip to Canada. Patuxet had been his village
before the disease killed everyone there. Essentially, he joined the Pilgrims
as an English-speaking, Patuxet orphan volunteering to help its new inhabitants
in creation of their colony. The day would end with Massasoit’s arrival to
negotiate a mutual assistance treaty that included plans for Squanto to stay
and help them out.
Biographer
Johnson speculates that Squanto likely joined the Hopkins household for a
while, since Stephen served as the colony’s de facto native ambassador
given his Jamestown experience. But the record is well-documented about
Squanto’s contribution, particularly in teaching the colonists best methods for
growing corn, beans and squash in this region.
When
the Mayflower finally sailed home on April 5, however, its cargo holds
were bare. The Pilgrims had been too busy surviving the winter to fulfill any
obligations to their investors for export of valuable trade goods like furs, lumber,
dried fish or food. Food? At that point the Pilgrims barely had anything to eat
for themselves. But their investors would have little sympathy after financing
the voyage.
Eventually,
the Plymouth Colony and its offshoots during the Puritan Great Migration of
1630-1650 would pay off handsomely for investors in England once those colonies
began to exploit the natural resources available in New England. But the first
few years of Plymouth would be marked by constant bickering between the
colonists and their benefactors back home. Of course, their debts weighed
little on their minds in the summer of 1621 as they focused with Squanto on the
basics of survival there.
Just
after departure of the Mayflower, Stephen’s de facto
responsibility as native ambassador assumed a more formal position with his
appointment to accompany Edward Winslow with Squanto on an exploration and
negotiation mission into the wilderness. It’s a shame that Stephen never kept a
journal or penned a memoir like several other notable Mayflower
passengers, particularly William Bradford, Myles Standish and Winslow.
Stephen’s book might have been the most dramatic of all, given his earlier
years in Jamestown. But thanks to Winslow, we do have a colorful record of the
trip they took in the Spring of 1621 to explore the Pilgrims’ new world and
hammer down more details of their alliance with Massasoit. And biographer
Johnson devoted an entire chapter of his book to this journey.
With
Squanto to serve as guide and translator, they had several immediate goals.
Since the colonists had hunkered down all winter, they still needed to survey
the surrounding countryside and record the location of rivers, timberlands,
hunting grounds and signs of other natural resources. But they also needed to
create trading relations with Massasoit and the villages under his control.
They also wanted to establish some ground rules for visitation from those
villages, wary that they did not yet have enough food to offer unexpected
guests stopping by to gawk at the new arrivals from across the ocean. They also
hoped to trade for a larger supply of seed corn to enhance their prospects for
the next winter.
On
the exploration front, Stephen and Winslow apparently found much to admire. And
Winslow’s account provides interesting tidbits of information about life in the
woods. In one village, for example, they dined on “spawn of shad”—a local
version of caviar! They learned about cornbread and edible acorns. They saw
several places where land had been cleared and then villages abandoned, with
Winslow declaring it a “pity.” They attracted small crowds in their travel, as
curious natives joined them for short distances. They found rivers and fresh
water sources. They demonstrated the power of their firearms, and in one
village staged a target contest of guns against bow-and-arrow. They saw “much
good timber” that included oak, walnut, fir, beech and chestnut. When Stephen
fired a salute in the air to welcome Massasoit to their powwow, Squanto had to
intervene and explain to frightened villagers about this English custom for
honoring dignitaries.
Once
they sat with Massasoit, they accomplished their goal. They presented him with
a copper chain he could give to messengers for use as a badge to ensure welcome
into Plymouth. They also asked Massasoit to help them find the natives they
needed to repay for that theft of native seed corn when the group first landed
in December. Informed of the Pilgrims’ desire to trade with local villagers,
Massasoit made what Winslow called a lengthy speech to the villagers, urging
them to bring skins for trade and keep the peace.
In
return, Stephen and Winslow shared stories of their homeland in England and
described King James I. Massasoit warned them about some of the rival tribes in
the area, sharing his suspicion that the Narragansett were allies of the
French, who had established bases to the north in Canada. Stephen and Winslow
slept that night in a small bed—with Massasoit and one of his wives! Later,
Winslow complained that fleas and lice had bothered them that night, but called
it an improvement from the mosquitoes that would have devoured them outside.
Massasoit provided two large fish for a meal the next day. Still hungry,
Stephen traded for a small bird and shared it with Winslow.
EdwardWinslow would live on to become a prominent figure in New England, serving a
term as governor at Plymouth and returning to England for a visit. He is
acknowledged as one of a handful of Pilgrims responsible for success of the
colony and his initial mission with Stephen ranked as a milestone event.
Following that trip, Stephen likely was called again to
join another expedition in June dispatched to find a 16-year-old boy who had wandered
off and gone missing. The colony sent a group of ten to search, with no list
available among the records. But biographer Johnson wrote he could not imagine
Hopkins being left behind, given his experience and his relationship to Squanto
who served as the translator. Traveling by boat, the group managed to recover
the boy, who had been staying with the Nauset tribe as a guest. Although wary
of the Nausets—the tribe that had attacked them a year before—the group turned
the meeting into a successful trade mission. But the Nausets also provided some
disturbing news destined to send Stephen on one of the most celebrated military
missions recorded in Pilgrim lore.
While the English were searching for the boy, they heard the Narragansett tribe had somehow kidnapped their ally Massasoit as part of a
revolt among the Wampanoag leadership. Recognizing their duty to support their
ally, the group dispatched Squanto and another Wampanoag warrior as scouts to
determine their next move. When the other warrior returned to Plymouth alone,
they feared Squanto had been captured or killed and decided to act. What
transpired next was likely the first military commando mission conducted by the
English in North America, led by Myles Standish with Stephen and Edward Winslow
among the raiders.
The squad of about a dozen men stormed the village of
Nemasket, about 15 miles from Plymouth. Taking control, they discovered Squanto
still alive and asleep in one of the houses. No one died in the battle, but the
Pilgrims conducted a meeting to make sure those natives understood their
alliance with Massasoit would not be disrupted. They threatened the villagers
with death in the event of any further attacks.
Again in September, Standish led another mission designed
to further fortify the Wampanoag alliance. Stephen likely joined this trip, as
well, but Johnson could find no records listing the names of the participants.
On this trip, Standish traveled north to what would become Boston Harbor to
visit the Massachusetts Tribe. That trip apparently ended without any serious
confrontation and helped forge a new alliance in that direction. But peace with
the natives would prove short-lived.
There’s been a tendency to imagine the Pilgrims as
persecuted victims seeking refuge among the natives who teach them to plant
corn while they pray and sing hymns. But it’s more realistic to recognize them
as hardy pioneers quite capable of intimidating native populations and
establishing themselves through aggression.
Known as much for his brutality as his military
leadership, Standish accomplished the ultimate act of regional intimidation in
March of 1623 when he brought the severed head of a hostile native chief back
to Plymouth for positioning on a pike near the village gate. There’s no record
of Stephen joining him on that expedition, but it is clear that Standish’s
tough policies with the natives likely kept the colony safe in its formative
years. Eventually, New England colonists would find themselves mired in one of history’s
bloodiest native American wars from 1675 to 1678 with several of my other
ancestors seeing action in that conflict, known as King Philip’s War. Ironically,
it was Massasoit’s son who would lead the natives in that war—known by the
English name he adopted, King Philip of the Wampanoag.
By then, however, the English colonial presence would have
grown to an extent that the natives never could prevail. I don’t believe the
natives of first-contact like Massasoit could even imagine the kinds of numbers
the English would send in such a short period of time. Beyond their
technological advantages, the Europeans also brought the ultimate weapon of
diseases that could ravage the native population while Europeans enjoyed
generations of immunity. To succeed, any
vulnerable colony likely needed a man like Standish to handle the dirty jobs
required to provide initial stability. Stephen and Standish apparently remained
friends throughout the growth of the colony.
This graphic from the Plimoth Plantation Museum booklet depicts Plymouth in 1627.
During those developing years, Stephen took full advantage
of his opportunities in Plymouth. But his legacy still holds something of a
mixed message for his descendants. He won elections on the governing council,
served as an advisor to the governor and on the tax assessment committee, and
apparently grew quite prosperous though land and livestock divisions. Stephen
joined other members of the colony in buying out their English investors in
1626, accumulating debt in the form of bonds but also seizing the opportunity
to divide the land and livestock into larger private ownership plots.
Biographer Johnson considered Stephen among the most prosperous of the village
based on his tax records and holdings when he died on June 16, 1644 at the age
of 63. Besides furniture, property and livestock, Stephen’s estate also
included what Standish listed as “diverse books” so he must have been a reader.
Second wife Elizabeth had preceded him in death about three years before.
While the Plymouth records paint a picture of Stephen as a
community leader, there’s also evidence he remained quite a roguish rebel. He
operated a tavern in his home, and records show fines for price gouging on
liquor sales and other items. I guess the Puritans believed in price controls.
My favorite court document involves his 1636 conviction
for battery stemming from a fight with a newly arrived colonist named John
Tisdale. The 55-year-old Stephen apparently beat the hell out of the
21-year-old Tisdale, leaving him “dangerously wounded,” according to the court
record. I guess that old goat still had some kick left in his legs. I wish the
court record included more of a transcript because the cause of the
confrontation is left to the imagination. Stephen was fined five pounds and
ordered to pay Tisdale 40 shillings.
In another unusual legal confrontation, the court was forced
to order Stephen in 1639 to fulfill his agreement to continue care for a female
servant who had become pregnant out of wedlock. The child’s father had been
executed for the murder of a native before the birth, and Johnson describes
Stephen as “furious” to learn that the servant, Dorothy Temple, was pregnant
while her lover hung on the gallows. Stephen refused to comply, and the colony
jailed him four days for contempt. He managed to negotiate his freedom by
persuading another colonist to accept 5 pounds and assume the two years
remaining on Dorothy’s indenture.
Stephen appears also to have been a bit of an
entrepreneur, investing in real estate in nearby Yarmouth in 1638 and
construction of a fishing boat in 1641. Biographer Johnson also reports a civil
dispute involving some sort of failed business deal. Johnson also cites
Stephen’s quasi-adoption of a troubled teen in 1642 as another sign of his
strong character. That youth, Jonathan Hatch, went on to marry and help found
the neighboring town of Falmouth, possibly under the influence of Stephen in
his few years left after Elizabeth’s death.
In his 1848 history on Lives of the Colonial Governors,
author Jacob Bailey Moore offered this final assessment on Stephen’s historical
place: "Of the Pilgrims
who remained in 1634, Stephen Hopkins, Miles Standish, and John Alden were the
most prominent individuals. Hopkins was the one of the principle
magistrates...Stephen Hopkins was not only one of the first men among the
Pilgrims, but he had extraordinary fortune in being concerned with many of the
first things that happened to the colonists, whether for good or for
evil.” And Stephen’s profile on WikiTree provides rich detail with
references about all aspects of his life.
While her father spent time strengthening the colony, my
grandmother Constance Hopkins likely focused on becoming a young lady. Only
four of the 18 adult women aboard the Mayflower survived that first
winter. Of the four teenage girls, 15-year-old Constance was the only one not
orphaned by 1621. In her fictional treatment of teenage life in the new colony,
Patricia Clapp portrays Constance as a typical flirty young girl and constructs
several romantic scenarios in imagining her emergence into an eligible wife.
During the next few years, additional ships arrived to
re-stock the colony with residents both male and female. Plymouth and
surrounding New England would rank as the first example of a true colony for
families in contrast with other ventures focused on harvesting resources rather
than creating a new homeland. Arrival of the Anne in 1623 brough the
young man destined to become her husband four years later. My grandfather Nicholas
Snow was six years older than Constance, and he appears to have worked as a
carpenter. He owned books and he held some minor positions in Plymouth such as
highway surveyor.
For a while it appears that Stephen served as patriarch of
an extended family that included Nicholas and Constance. But the couple decided
to move in 1643 to the town now known as Eastham on Cape Cod. Nicholas served
the community there as constable and surveyor, while also managing his farm
with the help of their children, including my grandmother, Elizabeth, born
February 25, 1640.
Author and descendant J.A. Snow has written a series of novels
about the Snow family, drawing on genealogical research all the way back to the
Fifteenth Century. The third book of the series, Pilgrim Girl, covers
the couple from the arrival of Nicholas in 1643 until their deaths. Constance
died on October 15, 1677, at the age of 71—about a year after the death of
Nicholas, both of them in Eastham. She is buried in Eastham’s Cove Burying
Ground, along with my other Mayflower grandfather, Joseph Rogers.
Joseph was about 18 when his father perished during that
first winter at Plymouth. At that point, he became the ward of one of the most
important men in American history, William Bradford, who would serve as the
colony’s governor for most of its first three decades. Records show Joseph
taxed as a freeman by 1633 in Plymouth following his marriage to a woman named
Hannah with her last name lost to time.
His family moved around, and by 1639 he was serving as a
constable in Duxbury after operating a ferry on the Jones River there in 1636.
By 1647, he also had moved to Eastham where he was appointed a lieutenant in
the militia. He died in January of 1678, at the age of 75. His second son,
Thomas Rogers, married Constance’s daughter, Elizabeth Snow on December 13,
1665, to complete my circle of Mayflower passenger ancestors, joining
the Hopkins clan with the Rogers family.
Nearly 400 years after my Mayflower grandparents came
ashore and started building their colony, I visited the recreated Plymouthvillage in 2017 and walked down the single dirt avenue separating rows of small
houses recreated by the museum there. I went inside the house identified as
home to Stephen and Elizabeth. I marveled at the small spaces that would have
been divided among the family and servants. And I wondered what Stephen would
think of me, could he visit my house in Houston, Texas. Of course, he’d be
stunned with the technological advances since his first steps onto the
Massachusetts shore. But what about my character? Would he be as proud to
consider me a descendant as I have been to think of him as my ancestor?
It is strange that I may know more about Stephen Hopkins
than my own father, and certainly all of my other grandfathers, except for
Peter Hobart (1604-1679) who followed Stephen to Massachusetts in 1635 and JohnLibby (1610-1681) who came to Maine that same year as a fisherman. But my
readings about those family lines will allow me to file additional posts in the
future so that my descendants can continue to learn about their deepest roots.
