avoid the accumulation of soiled linen, for the washing of which
no facilities could be provided, and Winthrop wrote of his boys to
his wife in one of his last letters, written as they rode at
anchor before Cowes, "They lie both with me, and sleep as soundly
in a rug (for we use no sheets here) as ever they did at Groton;
and so I do myself, (I praise God)."

Among minor trials this was not the least, for the comfort we
associate with English homes, had developed, under the Puritan
love of home, to a degree that even in the best days of the
Elizabethan time was utterly unknown. The faith which demanded
absolute purity of life, included the beginning of that
cleanliness which is "next to godliness," if not an inherent part
of godliness itself, and fine linen on bed and table had become
more and more a necessity. The dainty, exquisite neatness that in
the past has been inseparable from the idea of New England, began
with these Puritan dames, who set their floating home in such
order as they could, and who seized the last opportunity at
Yarmouth of going on shore, not only for refreshment, but to wash
neckbands and other small adornments, which waited two months for
any further treatment of this nature.

There were many resources, not only in needlework and the
necessary routine of each day, but in each other. The two
daughters of Sir Robert Saltonstall, Mrs. Phillips the minister's
wife, the wives of Nowell, Coddington and others made up the group
of gentlewomen who dined with Lady Arbella in "the great cabin,"
the greatness of which will be realized when the reader reflects
that the ship was but three hundred and fifty tons burden and
could carry aside from the fifty or so sailors, but thirty