Meanwhile, the summer passed and the cold weather came again, and
still there was no word from the fated ship. Few vessels put into
New England harbors during the winter, and, as the chance of news
grew less and less, the anxiety of the people gradually changed
to despair. They recalled the sacrifices they had made to fit out
that ship, the precious cargo she carried, all the things that
could not be replaced (such as the sermons and other writings of
Mr. Davenport which he had sent to England for publication); and
in the loss of the ship on which they had set all their hopes
they saw the final blow to the prosperity of New Haven. No one
now had the courage or the money for another venture of that
kind. Slowly and reluctantly the people turned to agriculture
instead of trade, and the days of New Haven as a commercial
colony were numbered.
But far worse to them than any material loss was the loss of the
dear friends and relatives who had sailed with the "Great Shippe"
for England. No compensation could come to those who had loved
them. In November, 1647, the passengers on the ship were finally
given up as lost and counted among the dead and their estates
settled.
Yet many to whom they were dear could not rest satisfied. They
remembered all the perils of the sea, the dangers of shipwreck on
some barren coast, of possible capture by pirates, such as those
who had attacked Captain Carman off the Canary Islands not many
years before, and they came to feel at last that they would be
thankful to learn that the ship had foundered at sea and that
their friends had gone down with her to a natural death in the
waters.
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