The Thanksgiving Spoon

Thanksgiving brings many images to mind: the Mayflower, Plymouth Rock, the Puritans, William Bradford and Miles Standish, and the first Thanksgiving feast attended by pilgrims and Native Americans. Many stories have embellished this festivity, the most American. Some are true, while others are Hollywood fiction.

One such legend has existed in my wife Jean’s family for 15 generations. The story centers on an old silver spoon, which has been handed down to the youngest daughter of each generation of her family. As the story goes, the spoon passed over the Mayflower in the possession of one of her passengers, Stephen Hopkins. However, lost in the mists of time has been the reason why the spoon has been given to the youngest female of each generation. My wife’s Aunt Re is the current keeper and protector of this intriguing family heirloom.

Being skeptical and certain that my wife’s lineage could not be better than mine, I researched her genealogical connection to Hopkins and searched for evidence of the spoon in its day. To my dismay, I discovered that my wife was in fact a direct descendant of Hopkins and that he and his family were bona fide passengers on the Mayflower. He was married to a blue blood!

However, I have yet to find any records of a silver spoon. So, I continued my search. While researching Hopkins in depth, what an incredible character began to unfold before me! Stephen was not your typical Puritan, not a Puritan at all! He was a native of Hampshire, England. He married his first wife, Mary, in the parish of Hursley, Hampshire; he and his wife Mary had his children Elizabeth, Constance and Giles, all baptized there. Constance was the ancestor of my wife Jean.

Hopkins embarked on the ship Sea Venture bound for Jamestown, Virginia, in 1609 as secretary to a minister, but the ship was wrecked on “Devils Island” in Bermuda. Stranded on an island for 10 months, the passengers and crew survived on turtles, birds and wild boar. After months as a castaway, Stephen and others organized a mutiny against the leader. The riot was discovered and Stephen was sentenced to death. However, he pleaded with tears. “So remorseful was he, and he complained so much, alleging the ruin of his wife and children in this, his transgression, that he wrought into the hearts of all the best fellows in the company,” says one account. ancient. He managed to get his sentence commuted. Interestingly, Shakespeare wrote a play, “The Tempest,” around 1611 featuring an insurrectionary character named Stephano who many believe was inspired by Stephen Hopkins.

Finally, the castaways built a small boat and sailed to Jamestown. It is not known how long Stephen stayed in Jamestown. However, while he was gone, his wife Maria died. She was buried at Hursley on 9 May 1613 and left an estate that mentions her children Elizabeth, Constance and Giles.

Stephen returned to England in 1617, when he married Elizabeth Fisher. His first child, Damaris, was born about 1618. In 1620, Stephen Hopkins brought his wife and his children Constance, Giles, and Damaris on the Mayflower. Stephen was quite an active member of the Pilgrims after they arrived, perhaps he was one of the few who had been to Virginia before. He was part of all the early scouting missions and was used almost as an expert on Native Americans for early contact. While scouting, Stephen recognized and identified an Indian deer trap. And when the Samoset Native American leader entered Plymouth and welcomed the English, he spent the night at the Hopkins house. Stephen was also sent on various missions to meet various indigenous groups in the region. Accompanied by legendary Native American guide Squanto, Hopkins brought gifts to seal a friendship with the chief. Stephen was one of the signers of the historic Mayflower Compact, an ancestor of our current Constitution.

Stephen was assistant governor until 1636 and volunteered for the Pequot War of 1637, but was never called to serve. However, in the late 1630s, Stephen began to run into trouble with the Plymouth authorities, as he apparently opened a shop and served alcohol. In 1636 he quarreled with John Tisdale and badly wounded him. In 1637, he was fined for allowing drinking and shuffleboard on Sundays. Early the following year, he was fined for allowing people to drink to excess. In 1638 he was fined twice for selling beer at twice the actual value, and in 1639 he was fined for selling a mirror for twice what it would cost if bought in the Bay Colony.

Also in 1638, Hopkins’s servant Dorothy became pregnant by Arthur Peach, who was subsequently executed for murdering an Indian. Plymouth Court ruled that Hopkins was financially responsible for her and hers son for the next two years (the amount remaining from his indentured tour of duty). Stephen, in contempt of court, kicked Dorothy out and refused to support her, so the court took him into custody. John Holmes stepped in and bought out Dorothy’s remaining two years of service, agreeing to support her and her son by hers. Stephen began to change his ways in the 1650s. He became friends with Captain Miles Standish, who used his house and property as the colony’s arsenal and courthouse.

Stephen remained close friends not only with Standish but also with William Bradford. Both were witnesses and signers of his will. Hopkins died between June 1644, when his will was made, and July 1644, when the inventory of his estate was made.

After searching through many historical documents, I still couldn’t locate “the spoon”. Finally, I found Hopkins’ detailed will on the Pilgrim Hall Museum website. While reading this lengthy document I came across the following lines:

“I also give and bequeath to my four daughters, that is, Deborah Hopkins, Damaris Hopkins, Ruth Hopkins and Elizabeth Hopkins, all personal property belonging to my house. They are furniture belonging to my said house of any type and not named by their particular names, all of which said furniture will be distributed equally among my said daughters, four silver spoons, that is to say, one to each of them, and in case any of them my said daughters must be taken away by death before they marry so that later the part of their division is divided equally among the survivors.

He had found the spoon! In fact, four silver spoons given to her four youngest daughters. Yet how did my wife’s ancestor, Constance, fifth and eldest daughter, come to possess one of the spoons? They stayed with her four younger sisters. Digging deeper, I found the likely answer, thanks to William Bradford, one of the famous leaders of the colony. He wrote in 1650:

“Mr. Hopkins and his wife are now dead, but they lived more than twenty years in this place and had a son and four daughters born here. Their son became a sailor and died in Barbados, a daughter died here and two are married; one of them has two sons, and the other has not yet married. So his surviving raise is five. But his son Giles is married with four children. His daughter Constance is also married and has twelve children, all of them alive and one of them married”.

A daughter had died, that was my answer! According to Stephen’s will, if anyone died, his share would be divided among the others. Constance, the eldest, inherited her deceased younger sister’s spoon from her!

What an incredible journey in time the spoon took me! No doubt that old spoon was used in that first Thanksgiving meal. Perhaps the hand of Miles Standish, or William Bradford, or perhaps Squanto held it. Could it have been the spoon for serving mashed potatoes, corn, or stuffing? Whatever its use, it was there at that first Thanksgiving table 375 years ago when two very different peoples came together to give thanks to the most merciful God.

The old spoon will be polished again for this Thanksgiving meal at Aunt Re’s house. It will once again be in the hands of a distant daughter of Stephen Hopkins. She will once again be present where a sumptuous meal will be served and heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving offered.

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