The First Thanksgiving
The spring of 1621 opened. The seed was sown in the fields. The colonists
cared for it without
ceasing,
and
watched
its growth with anxiety; for well they knew that their lives depended upon
a
full harvest.
The days of spring and summer flew by, and the autumn came. Never in Holland
or England
had the Pilgrims seen the like of the treasures bounteous Nature now spread
before them. The
woodlands were arrayed in gorgeous colors, brown, crimson, and gold, and
swarmed with game
of all kinds, that had been concealed during the summer. The little farm-plots
had been blessed
by the sunshine and showers, and now plentiful crops stood ready for the
gathering. The Pilgrims,
rejoicing, reaped the fruit of their labors, and housed it carefully for
the winter. Then, filled with
the spirit of thanksgiving, they held the first harvest-home in New England.
For one whole week they rested from work, feasted, exercised their arms,
and enjoyed various
recreations. Many Indians visited the colony, amongst these their greatest
king, Massasoit, with
ninety of his braves. The Pilgrims entertained them for three days. And
the Indians went out into
the woods and killed fine deer, which they brought to the colony
and presented to the governor
and the captain and
others. So all made merry together
And bountiful was the
feast. Oysters, fish and wild turkey, Indian maize and barley bread,
geese and ducks, venison and other savory meats, decked the board. Kettles,
skillets, and spits
were overworked, while knives and spoons, kindly assisted by fingers, made
merry music on
pewter plates. Wild grapes, "very sweete and strong," added zest to the
feast. As to the
vegetables, why, the
good governor describes them thus: --
"All sorts of grain
which our own land doth yield,
Was hither brought,
and sown in every field;
As wheat and rye, barley,
oats, beans, and pease
Here all thrive and
they profit from them raise;
All sorts of roots
and herbs in gardens grow, --
Parsnips, carrots,
turnips, or what you'll sow,
Onions, melons, cucumbers,
radishes,
Skirets, beets, coleworts
and fair cabbages."
Thus a royal feast it was the Pilgrims spread that first golden autumn
at Plymouth, a feast
worthy of their Indian
guests.
All slumbering discontents they smothered with common rejoicings. When
the holiday was
over, they were surely better, braver men because they had turned aside
to rest awhile and be
thankful together. So the exiles of Leyden claimed the harvests of New
England.
This festival was the bursting into life of a new conception of man's dependence
on God's gifts
in Nature. It was the
promise of autumnal Thanksgivings to come.
