Aug. 3. 1620.

["It was subscribed with many names of ye cheefest of ye company.” 
—­Bradford, “Historie,” Mass. ed. p. 77.]

VIII
the letter of Robert Cushman (from Southampton)
to Edward Southworth

To his loving friend Ed[ward] S[outhworth] at Henige House, in ye Duks Place [London], these, &c.

Dartmouth [Thursday] Aug. 17, [Anno 1620.]

Loving friend, my most kind remembrance to you & your wife, with loving E. M. &c. whom in this world I never looke to see againe.  For besids ye eminente dangers of this viage, which are no less then deadly, an infirmitie of body Hath seased me, which will not in all licelyhoode leave me till death.  What to call it I know not, but it it is a bundle of lead, as it were, crushing my harte more & more these 14. days, as that allthough I doe ye acctions of a liveing man, yet I am but as dead; but ye will of God be done.  Our pinass [the Speedwell] will not cease leaking, els I thinke we had been halfe way at Virginia, our viage hither hath been as full of crosses, as our, selves have been of crokednes.  We put in hear to trime her, & I thinke, as others also, if we had stayed at sea but 3. or 4. howers more, shee would have sunke right downe.  And though she was twice trimed at Hamton, yet now shee is open and lekie as a seine; and ther was a borde, a man might have puld of with his fingers, 2 foote longe, wher ye water came in as at a mole hole.  We lay at Hamton 7. days, in fair weather, waiting for her, and now we lye hear waiting for her in as faire a wind as can blowe, and so have done these 4. days, and are like to lye 4. more, and by yt time ye wind will happily turne as it did at Hamton.  Our victualls will be halfe eaten up, I thinke, before we goe from the coaste of England, and if our viage last longe, we shall not have a months victialls when we come in ye countrie.  Near 700li. hath bene bestowed at Hamton upon what I know not.  Mr. Martin saith he neither can nor will give any accounte of it, and if he be called upon for accounts he crieth out of unthankfulness for his paines & care, that we are susspitious of him, and flings away, and will end nothing.  Also he so insulteh over our poore people with shuch scorne and contempte, as if they were not good enough to wipe his shoes.  It would break your hart to see his dealing, and ye mourning of our people.  They complaine to me, & alass!  I can doe nothing for them; if I speake to him, he flies in my face, as mutinous, and saith no complaints shall be heard or received but by him selfe, and saith they are forwarde, & waspish, discontented people, & I doe ill to hear them.  Ther are others yt would lose all they have put in, or make satisfaction for what they have had, that they might departe; but he will not hear them, nor suffer them to goe ashore, least they should rune away.  The sailors also are so offended at