A Journey to the New World Page 9
Love,
Mem
September 20, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
Mistress Potts has been by every day since Father has been gone on the expedition. She is good with Blessing. There is nothing much else to write. I should have a lot to say when Father and Squanto return.
Love,
Mem
September 21, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
I could just spit at Mistress Billington. Do you know what she said, and within earshot of Hannah Potts? She said that the only reason my father be drawn to Mistress Potts is for the feather mattress she owns. It is the only real mattress in the settlement and it is filled with down as Mistress Potts’ father was a fowler in Leyden and did keep many geese. Well, it was the meanest thing I ever did hear and, poor Hannah, her eyes filled with tears, and I thought she was like to break out crying right there on the spot. So I said to Mistress Billington, “Mind your tongue. My father is pleased by Mistress Potts because she has comely ways and she is dear with Blessing and she makes a nice pudding and she is quiet and elegant in her manner unlike yourself!” And then I just took hold of Hannah’s hand, gave her a yank, and we stomped off.
Will the Bilgewaters ever cease to amaze and confound me, Imp?
Love,
Mem
September 23, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
Father returned last night, and to tell you the truth I have never seen Hannah Potts so animated. She brought her stool over to our house so we could listen by the fire to his stories.
Father said the fields and surrounding lands up there were indeed superior to those here and that many regretted that we had not pushed on. Once there they encountered many Indians, and the women, or squaws, wore cloaks of the most beautiful beaver fur they had yet seen. The women were more than willing to sell their coats for a few handfuls of bright beads and a ribbon or two. So now Father says the fur trade has begun in earnest and he is quite hopeful as to our being able to fulfill our obligations with the merchants.
They actually expect the new ship to be sailing in here fairly soon. I will not think if Hummy by some miracle be on it, for it would have to be a miracle.
But here is another wonderful thing that Father told us. My heart beats faster just thinking of it. He described to us that at the mouth of the harbor there were many islands and ledges and the men took to naming them. A small cluster at the entrance to the harbor was named the Brewsters in honor of our Ruling Elder. A point of land was named Allerton and guess what, another that rose from the sea so green and lovely and round was named Grace after dear Mam. It was Father’s idea. They had wanted to name it Whipple, but Father said no. He wanted it to be called Grace, just Grace. I know now that he still loves her so deeply, but even more important I know now that to the north there is a green and lovely place rising from these bleak and roiling waters named for Mam.
This was a very nice evening. We all — Blessing, me, Father, and Hannah — sat close to the fire. Hannah and I were on our stools and when Blessing whined for a turn to sit Father said, “No, Blessing. The stools are for the ladies.”
Love,
Mem
October 5, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
Father and Hannah Potts were married yesterday. Governor Bradford read the service in the large room of the fort. That is where we now have all of our meetings whether they be for making peace treaties with the Indians or worshipping our Lord. It was a very simple wedding. No high merriment or garlands of flowers. Love Brewster helped me braid some wheat sheaves into which we wove some lavender. Wheat is for good luck and fertility. I wouldn’t mind another baby about. And it would cheer Mistress Potts something considerable after having lost hers. And we did make a circle of birch leaves and rosemary for the bride’s head. Love had brought some tansy for it but I could not bring myself to weave yellow into this wreath. It reminded me too much of Mam and how she did love yellow.
I have no idea what I am to call Hannah Potts. Do I call her Mistress Potts? Stepmother Potts? I cannot call her Mam. If putting tansy in a wreath for her head was too difficult you can imagine, Imp, what calling her Mam would do to me. I’ll think on this one a while. I don’t think Mistress Potts will be much help. She is still as quiet as a stone and it was all she could do to answer Governor Bradford with “I will” during the ceremony.
Love,
Mem
October 10, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
We have worked so hard during this harvest season, but praise be to the Lord for indeed with God’s blessing we now shall have for each family a peck of meal a week as well as the same in corn for each family. My hands and fingers are sheathed in calluses from shucking all the corn. We had sown some twenty acres with Indian corn and all of it did excellently. We sowed six acres with peas and barley. The peas were a miserable failure. Peas should be sown earlier here, for the summers are much hotter here. These came up and blossomed but then were terribly parched by the sun.
Tomorrow be the first morning, except of course for Sabbaths, in over three months when I do not have to rise before the moon is down and the stars swallowed to go work in the fields. What will my fingers do with no corn to shuck? But the harvest is in.
Love,
Mem
October 11, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
I do indeed think that Governor William Bradford is one of the cleverest men ever. He has declared that we shall have a special time of rejoicing for the gathering of the fruits of our labors! And it is not to last simply one day, or two, but three whole days. Squanto is sent to invite Massasoit and his people. We shall have feasting and entertainments! Four men have already been sent out to get fowl; others to hunt deer; and my father, with John Alden and Masters Winslow and Billington, are sent in the shallop to catch bass and cod and perhaps some eels. Governor Bradford dispatches men with all the skill of Myles Standish drilling and ordering his militia about. I think in truth this is the genius of William Bradford: He can plan celebrations with as much cunning as he can make laws or treaties or compacts. This takes a special kind of mind, I do believe.
Love,
Mem
October 13, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
Mistress Potts (I still don’t know what to call her) and I have, I believe, worked as hard for this feast as we did in the fields. All the women have been cooking from dawn to dusk. Meat stews, fish soups. Squanto has shown me a new dish to make called succotash with a mixture of beans and corn. I promise to make pudding. Father and the men in the shallop did well. They brought in baskets brimming with fish. But Father said Master Billington did little to help. He complained of a sore shoulder and could not haul the nets. So he spent most of his time drinking beer and basking in this October sunshine.
Mistress Billington did not shirk, however, and she was quite helpful to me with the succotash. She apparently has either forgotten or forgiven how sharply I spoke to her. I think it is probably forgotten, not that she is incapable of forgiving. It is just that I don’t think anything lasts that long in her mind.
Love,
Mem
October 14, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
’Tis the first day of the festivities. Massasoit has brought with him ninety Indians. We are busily cooking more. It is so exciting. The whole village bustles and everywhere Indians! The men have their faces painted deep red and they smoke their long pipes — and sometimes the women smoke the pipes, too! The air is laced with the scents of roasting meats and herbs. There are to be games and someone, I think it be Stephen Hopkins, has unearthed a pipe and drum and we ladies get to have a jigging match! I might not be writing much as there is so much to do and so much fun to be had. I’ll tr
y just to write for a minute or two, Imp. Fear not I shall never forget you.
Love,
Mem
October 15, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
I thought I had eaten to the top yesterday, but here I be back for more at the table today. It has been a marvelous time. Mistress Billington jigged until she nearly swooned, but she never let up until finally, in fact, she did collapse. Her cheeks as red as the lobsters the Indians cooked in the kettle. I had never tasted lobster. It is my favorite. But you must wrestle with it to get the meat out of the claws. Johnny and Francis Billington made themselves lobster mustaches from the threadlike orange tentacles. ’Twas very funny.
Love,
Mem
October 17, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
The Indians did a most lovely and haunting dance at our festivities. It was full of quietness and we could only hear their soft humming and the click of their beads and their clamshell necklaces. It is called the deer dance and they do it this time of year, for soon they shall hunt in earnest for the deer. I am not feeling so well tonight. I am not sure I shall join the jigging match.
Love,
Mem
November 6, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
Finally I awoke and when I did I hardly knew what had become of me. But, dear Imp, you and I nearly parted company. Indeed, I nearly parted company with everything and everybody on earth. I have apparently lain at death’s doorway for almost three weeks. My last recollection was wondering if I felt well enough to go to the jigging match. I would not have known that if I had not read the page I had written to you that day. When my father came into our house he found me sprawled on the floor. My eyes rolled back in my head, my breath but a dim pulse.
Since that time they, Hannah and he, have nursed me. I have been bled once by the doctor, and Squanto came and they gave me teas made with powder of lily roots, just what I saw them diving for. But I have no recollection of taking that decoction at all.
Then yesterday morning I heard this lovely voice singing — singing a song about a faraway stream and I think in my confused state that I have perhaps died and gone to heaven and this is the voice of an angel. I am so weak I cannot even open my eyes. And I think, yes, truly I be in a heavenly place for I have this feeling of softness and warmth all about me. So I open my eyes, curious to see what heaven looks like. And what do I see but Mistress Hannah Potts and what do I feel but her feather mattress under me and her down coverlet over me. She hath given me her own bed, the one she shares with Father, while I have been ill all these long days. And I move my mouth to speak, but it is I who makes a tsking sound now. So I try again and I say, “Hannah!” And she stops her sweet singing and cries for my father. And so I now know what to call her. She shall always be Hannah to me.
Love,
Mem
November 7, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
I feel much stronger today. There is talk that the next ship sent by the merchants shall be arriving soon. I try not to think about if Hummy might be on it. But it is hard.
Love,
Mem
November 8, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
Today I walked. Tomorrow I hope to walk further. I wonder, if indeed the ship would come in, if I could walk to the hill where I saw the Mayflower leave with Hummy. For now, as then, I would prefer to watch it all from a grand distance. I know she will not be on it. I know I shall cry either way, if she were or were not. I like to do my crying away from people. You understand, Imp, don’t you?
Love,
Mem
P.S. Do you think, that there be the slightest possibility that she be coming?
November 10, 1621
Plimoth Settlement
Dear Imp,
The ship has been spotted on the horizon! I am going to the hill. I think I am strong enough, but I shall have to sneak out of the house to do it. They shall soon be going to a meeting in the fort to discuss matters concerning the new arrivals. I shall leave then. I shall take you with me.
Later this same day …
Dear Imp,
I have made it. It took me forever and every breath of wind. My legs do feel like jelly even though I brought Father’s eeling staff with me. A chill wind blows but I am bundled well. I now sit in the exact spot I did eight long months ago. I keep telling myself I know Hummy will not be on that ship and yet you cannot kill hope. I think to myself perhaps there shall be another girl like me on the ship to become my friend. But I don’t believe this either. You see, I think that true friends when lost are hard to replace.
There is much to hope for even beyond friends, however. I can hope that perhaps a new baby will come into our lives, but maybe not too soon, for Hannah and I have plans for our garden next year. Hannah is still so set to get a big patch of peas to grow. All that will require great strength and much energy. And even if this ship does not carry Hummy it carries much that we need. More tools and things for building, so our little community will grow and, perhaps if there is enough of these things, Father says we shall be able to add on a small room to our house. But then I believe we might have to take away from the garden. So I am not sure which would be best.
They also say that on the next ship that comes there might be spinning wheels and once more we can spin but, better than spinning wheels, there might be chickens and pigs and milk cows!! Oh, I do quiver at the thought of eggs and milk for then truly we can make bag puddings and cakes. Hannah knows how to make ginger cake and she doth have some ginger. Hannah is an excellent baker. Last night when we were talking I said, “Imagine Plimoth growing so that one day there be a bakery just like the ones back in Holland! And you and I shall be the bakers, Hannah!”
Well, everyone laughed for it is hard to imagine our little settlement ever having shops and the like. ’Tis only a settlement here, after all, but I can imagine a place in the New World, perhaps not as grand as Leyden but a village with winding streets, lined with houses crammed one against the other and signs hanging out over the doors for bakeries and shoemakers and barrel makers and pickled-fish shops and ribbon shops.
So right now as I watch that ship coming toward our harbor it is a ship of dreams in a way and I look at it and I can dream once again of ginger cake and sweet buns and hope for a new friend and I shall, of course, never give up hoping for Hummy.
If Hummy doesn’t come I tell myself it will not be the end of the world. No, I thought the world had ended for two days in April. I thought it would always be winter in my mind. But a thaw has begun inside me. I have after all learned to plant a seed in a hole and bring up corn! I have learned how to beat a stream in the moonlight til it gives forth eels for our cooking pots. I have learned many words in the strange tongue of the Wampanoag. And now here’s what I have left to do: I must learn to set a snare for a deer, for I do not like shooting any better than stitchery. I must learn to swim and dive for lily roots with two sets of petticoats on. I must someday learn to sail and then on that day I shall set a course for an island that rises out of the sea all green and lovely that is called Grace.
For what I have learned and what I hope to learn, for all of this I give thanks.
Love,
Mem
Epilogue
Many of Remember’s hopes and dreams came true, others did not. She never again saw her dear friend Humility Sawyer, and Mem’s and Hannah’s plans for peas and a bigger garden did not succeed, nor did the dreams of abundant crops come true for the rest of the settlement.
In 1628, when Mem was nineteen years old she married William Endicott.
In 1630, the city of Boston was founded and Mem and her husband moved there along with others who realized that their destiny was not to try and tame the backbreaking, rock-strewn New England soil.
Soon after, Mem gave birth to twin girls w
hom she named Humility and Grace. Her husband William became a successful merchant of dried fish and soon branched out into lumbering. Many others from the original Plimoth settlement found their way to Boston, including Blessing who married a cousin of William Endicott’s, and finally Hannah came as a widow when Mem’s father died.
Mem and Hannah and Mem’s twins along with Blessing and Hannah’s two young sons by Mem’s father baked hardtack and sea biscuits for the larders of ships in the merchant trade. But they also baked cinnamon buns and Hannah Potts Whipple’s special ginger cake, which could not go to sea, but became famous in many homes.
Remember Patience Whipple lived a very long life. So long that the best dream of all was fulfilled. She lived to see her children’s children’s children. And in fact it was a great-great-great-granddaughter, a Miss Humility Albright, who discovered the diary of Remember Patience Whipple Endicott in a trunk blackened with age in the attic of her parents’ house on Beacon Hill in Boston in the year 1850.
Life in America in 1620
Historical Note
In 1620, the Pilgrims sailed to America in order to escape religious and political persecution and establish a settlement where they could live and worship in a way that they defined as godly.