A Journey to the New World Page 4
No more to write, Imp. Let us hope that with God’s help these men, Saints and Strangers, will find the way.
Love,
Mem
November 11, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
God Bless Master Bradford. He has drawn the men into accord. They have signed a form called a compact, The Mayflower Compact, in which it is agreed that all the people, Saints and Strangers alike, shall combine into one body or company and submit to one government with a governor to be chosen. Then they went on and chose John Carver for the governor. I do not know why they did not choose Bradford, but Carver is a good man.
With that settled the men can begin to go ashore and explore. I am so proud. My dear father has been chosen to go with this first landing party. There be sixteen men who set out now well armed to fetch some wood and look about on the land. The Bilgewater boys are furious. They wanted to go. We are of course all anxious to get off the ship and have a look for ourselves. I am so excited to hear what father shall report. I shall perhaps write later today when he returns.
Love,
Mem
Later …
Father is not yet back. But people are still growling and spatting here because they are all feeling so cooped up as they gaze at land. Master and Mistress Bilgewater had a real go-round on toward noon and Mam clapped her hands right over my ears so I wouldn’t hear the disgusting word Mistress Billington screeched out at her husband. And then I think he called her something worse but Mam had a good fix on my ears and was pressing so hard it hurt and I couldn’t hear even the first sound. If I have ear damage I am going to blame it on the Bilgewaters. They are the most vile of families.
Mam says she is worried about Dorothy Bradford as she seems quite withdrawn and she fears she is missing little John more than ever.
Love,
Mem
November 12, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
’Tis so exciting! Father returned after supper last night. They came laden with wood, the best of which is juniper for it be so fragrant. Father cut me a small branch and I plan to keep it near my head as I sleep. But there are all kinds of trees — birch, holly, pine, sassafras, walnut, oak — all without much undergrowth, making it easy to move through. He says the piece of land we gaze on from the ship is actually just a very narrow neck.
Father and the party of men did not encounter any Indians. Everyone seemed relieved but I must confess that I am slightly disappointed.
Today being the Sabbath nobody went ashore nor did work of any kind. Tomorrow, however, we all get to go ashore. The women to do washing as it will be blue Monday! Imagine washing clothes in the New World! Am I silly? I never thought washing clothes could be so exciting. I can hardly sleep waiting for blue Monday!
Imp, I am going to tuck you right under the juniper branch. Sweet sleep!
Love,
Mem
November 13, 1620
On the beach, Cape Cod Bay
Dear Imp,
I pause for just a moment in this most wonderful morning to catch you up. We came ashore early under an armed guard organized by Captain Standish and the very first thing we did was fall to our knees on the sand to give thanks to our Lord. Then all the women began scrubbing and beating and rinsing the heaps of clothes. But we children were so wild with the thrill of the sand beneath our feet that we indeed ran wild, skirting the foam of the waves.
We flung ourselves on the wind, then raced up some nearby dunes! And not an upgrown doth scold us for I imagine that they think we need to do this. So I thank the Lord that I am a child, for although last night I felt that to do washing in the New World was the finest thing ever, first I must race one more time down this beach with Hummy and holler into the breeze.
The Billington boys found some sticks of driftwood and have been chasing the younger children around with them. The ship’s carpenter took away the sticks when they chased the small ones to near where he and the men are working on the repair of the shallop. He did threaten to thrash them if he ever saw them raising sticks again in what he called a “menacing manner.” The men are very hard at work on the shallop as many of its seams did open with so many people sleeping in it. The shallop is the best kind of small boat for exploring the coastline. So ’tis very important that she be quickly mended. Father helps, too. He is so good with a draw knife and fashioning new pieces.
Later …
Hummy and I have now settled down to washing with the women. But we along with several other children found some tidal flats with marvelous shellfish. We plan to go gather many of these clams and mussels for all of us be ravenous for some fresh food. There are many varieties of clams.
Love,
Mem
P.S. The only one who did not whoop and holler and run was Mary Chilton, the one we call Air Nose because she has such a high opinion of herself. She didn’t help with the washing, either. Seems she is too good for work or play.
November 14, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Can hardly write. We all be terribly sick with the scours. ’Twas the mussels that did us in! Thankfully Father was spared, for he goes on the first big exploration trip tomorrow. Shallop still not ready, so they go on foot.
Love,
Mem
P.S. Air Nose has lowered her nose ever so much more. Scours does that to one. ’Tis a humbling experience!
November 15, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Feeling slightly better. Father left quite early but Hummy and I managed to get up to see him off. We heard that the men who go on this second exploration would be bringing gifts to give the feathered men, if indeed they encounter them. It so excited me that I said to Hummy, would it not be wonderful to think of the Indians having something we made? She did agree. So sick as we were we managed to fashion three little poppets out of ribbon. They look quite cunning. Even the one Blessing tried to eat. The child is still so mouthy — everything goes in her mouth. We must watch her very carefully.
Father will be gone some few days on this trip and I be so impatient to hear what he has learned.
Very impatiently yours,
Mem
November 16, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
We are all stunned. We are so lucky to be alive. You can never believe what horrific thing nearly befell us. The Billington boys nearly blew up Mayflower! They have now been thrashed within an inch of their lives, this time by their own father. I doubt they shall ever do a bad thing again.
Here is what happened. They have been bored and cantankerous ever since we have arrived. It seems they think that they should be included on all of these exploration trips, and so were becoming increasingly unruly. Of course, none of our parents wants us to associate with these foul-mouthed, smudgy-minded little boys. So they were left to their own devices, as it were!
Poking around the ship they found some quills, the kind used for firing cannons and the like. They took these and some way broke into the ship stores and stole some gunpowder which they stuffed down into the quills. Then — the gruesome mind can indeed be a clever one — they got some rope and soaked it in saltpeter so it would light, this providing them with a slow match, and began setting the quills off with a bang. Not big bangs mind you, for the quills did not have that much gunpowder in them. They would go in a low arc with a sizzle and a pop. But guess where they were doing this — right next to kegs of gunpowder! Had one landed in the wrong place the whole Mayflower could have been blown sky-high! By the grace of God, it was Richard Sawyer, Hummy’s father, who discovered them. And if anything good comes out of this, perhaps it is that Master Sawyer seems a bit less withdrawn and melancholy. There is more light in his eye. Perhaps nearly having one’s head blown off increases one’s appreciation for life.
Love,
Mem
November 18, 1620
&nbs
p; Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Father returned at dawn this morning and what tales he has to tell! And he be so dear a man that even in this forsaken place he brings me back gifts from the New World—a small vial of fresh spring-water and a painted Indian bead!
When they set out three days ago they followed along the beach for some time, then turned inland and had gone but barely a mile when they spotted their first feathered men. The men tried to follow the Indians, but the Indians quickly disappeared. The men still tried to follow their trace for another ten miles, but then night fell and they had to find lodging. By morning they were ready to resume their trek, and came upon a spring — the first freshwater they have tasted since leaving England. My father said ’twas the best he ever drank in all his life. It was from this spring that he drew a small vial for me. I have taken but a sip and I do agree. It is the best.
Now refreshed, they headed south and passed through much sassafras and oak. For Mam, Father did bring back some sassafras root and bark, which is so good for medicines for various ailments. It was shortly after this that they discovered a small path that led directly to a mysterious mound of sand. It was on this path that father found my second gift — the painted bead.
They continued on through groves of walnut trees fairly dripping with nuts and then came upon another heap of sand. They commenced digging this mound and what should they find but a great basket of most wonderful corn of all colors — some yellow, some red, and some blue. They took as much corn as they could and thanked God for the providence of bestowing upon them this corn.
Finally they returned back to our beach and shot off their muskets to signal they were here and the sailing master went in the longboat to fetch them. So now I have the bead of a genuine New World Indian and a vial of the sweetest water and I shall never ever taste another mussel in my life!
Love,
Mem
November 21, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Hummy and I are bored, bored, bored! We be about to scream from boredom, but don’t worry, we shant be tempted to blow up the ship. However, endless days we linger here on board. Myles Standish is very strict about women and children going ashore. He has a powerful fear of these feathered men. It is my and Hummy’s personal opinion that everyone will be most disappointed if they do not attack or cause some sort of ruckus. But that is not the only reason we are kept from shore. The harbor is not an easy one for it is difficult to go to or come from shore except at high water. One must often wade and get wet, so now many suffer from colds and coughs. The men continue to work on the shallop repairs.
Love,
Mem
November 22, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Still bored, nothing to write about.
November 23, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
More than bored.
November 24, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Can one die of boredom?
Love,
Mem
November 26, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Shallop is almost repaired. There is talk of the men setting off on a second exploration. I wish I were a man. I wish I were a bird. I wish I were a whale. Anything to get off this ship.
Dorothy Bradford is talking to herself. Well, not exactly to herself, rather to little John Bradford. Hummy and I hear her. If you come upon her of a sudden and she be mumbling, she looks startled and tries to cover up. But Hummy and I just this morning saw her and she did not see us. She was staring at a barrel and carrying on so animated in her conversation that you could have sworn that little John Bradford was sitting right there atop that barrel. I felt so sorry for her.
Love,
Mem
November 28, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Thirty-four men, my father amongst them, did set off today. Some in the shallop, others in the longboat, to make a more complete exploration of some of the nearby rivers. The weather was fierce and the day laced with crosswinds, so we are not sure how far they will get. There is talk that we shall not settle here near this beach and harbor at all, for the harbor is shallow and ill suited for shipping traffic. ’Tis said that the true object of this second exploration is to find another place for our settlement.
They shall be gone for a few days, so we must be patient yet again and wait and wonder.
Love,
Mem
November 30, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Hoorah, the men have returned earlier than expected. They did in fact make it to the mouth of one of the rivers in the shallop and explored that river and another smaller one and the surrounding valleys. Father said they went back to the place where they had originally found the corn and found even more, and beans, too, which they brought back with them. They now call this place Cornhill. Father and all the men say that this finding of corn is a sign of the special providence of God; thus showing his great mercy upon us poor souls and thus providing us with seed corn to plant next year. And they be so blessed to find it now, as soon the ground will be frozen hard and covered with snow.
Whenever the men come close, the Indians always seem to vanish before they can get even a glimpse. This is very disappointing to Hummy and me. We are so anxious for a full and complete description of a feathered man. Where exactly do they wear their feathers? We are most curious since we have heard that they are given to going around mostly naked.
The explorers, however, did discover a new kind of Indian abode, one made with boughs bent into hoops and stuck into the ground at both ends. Into this frame were woven smaller branches and the whole was covered with woven mats and strips of bark. In the houses they found a lovely assortment of baskets made from all variety of materials including crab shells. In nearby tree hollows they found stores of venison. They brought back a few of these things with them to the ship. I wish they could have brought back a whole twig house. Father did leave the ribbon poppets that Hummy and I made and it gives us deep pleasure to think of these Indians seeing these cunning little dollies.
There is now going on a great discussion as to whether we should remain here. It is getting on to winter and with weather setting in we cannot be ranging about much longer.
I’m not sure what I think, Imp. Of course, no one is asking me. I want to be able to get off this ship and sleep on shore and have a roof over my head. But mostly, I want us to all have a piece of ground in the New World we can call our own.
Good night, dear Imp.
Love,
Mem
December 3, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
Have not written because nothing to write. There be unending discussions as to whether a third exploration party should be set out to find another possible place for our settlement. There is talk of another great good harbor beyond the headland. With winter closing in they must come to agreement quickly.
Many colds and coughs. I worry about Mam. She looked peaked and I hear a burr in her chest when she coughs.
Love,
Mem
December 5, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
It is decided. The men shall be leaving tomorrow to sail in a northerly direction. Weather has turned bitter and wet. I see ice on the rigging making the halyards appear like cords of glass.
Hummy and I think that Lark is sweet on John Alden. Either that or she has developed a passion for the skills of barrel repair. Whenever he goes to check the water and beer barrels she is with him.
Love,
Mem
December 6, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
The men, including Father, left in the shallop this morning. Although proud that he be chosen once more, Mam and I were not without real fear this time as the ten men set forth
in the foulest of weather. The hard rain was turning to ice as soon as it hit anything and I could see my father’s coat and hat begin to shimmer like the rigging. It would not only be cold but the clothes must weigh so heavy. And with these fierce winds ’tis easy to imagine disaster striking the shallop. Any man thus iced would sink like a stone. I pray they be safe and not gone for long.
I go below and try to amuse Blessing with some of the finger games Will taught me. But I am not as clever as Will nor are my fingers so nimble.
Love,
Mem
December 7, 1620
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
The first New World baby is born here this evening. Peregrine White slipped into life just a few moments before midnight. He be a dear little thing with a thick thatch of unruly black hair, and he be our first New World baby!
Love,
Mem
December 8, 1620. Midnight
Cape Cod Harbor
Dear Imp,
A terrible accident has happened. Dorothy Bradford is dead. Her body was pulled from the water shortly before midnight on December 7. She slipped on the ice-glazed upper deck and went over. And what is the worst is that I perhaps could have helped her had I been more alert for I, too, was on the upper deck. You see the poor woman has been so distracted by her grief over missing her dear son that she does not pay attention, and on a ship in a winter sea like this, one must always pay heed.