Standing next to his brother with a wife at each end, Uriah leaned forward so he could see past Caleb. “And you, Elizabeth, do you find the ships pleasing?”
“I do indeed.” Soon she was distracted by a seagull and lifted her eyes to watch it glide through the air.
Uriah nudged his brother.
Caleb winced and then cleared his throat, “My dear, would you enjoy sailing on one of those ships?”
Elizabeth's attention was still on the bird when she answered, “I would like it very much, but I am content to watch instead. I try never to desire that which is unobtainable.”
“But if it should be obtainable, would you object to sailing...to the Colonies?”
Elizabeth gave him her full attention, “I see no need of discussing it. We are clearly without the means.”
“But if we should have the means though?”
“That's highly unlikely.”
“Not so unlikely as you think.”
Elizabeth leaned forward to look at her sister. Mary’s brow was wrinkled. “Caleb, have you sold all our future children?”
“Of course not!” He reached into the pocket of his long pants and pulled out a crumpled letter. “We have had a post from our most excellent Aunt Charlotte.” He unfolded the letter and smoothed the wrinkles, “It reads...”
While Caleb read, Uriah nervously patted the back of the already sleeping child, and tried not to watch Mary's changing expressions. First, she was befuddled, then disturbed, and then anxious. Her eyes shifted and her hands were tightly clasped together, but by the time Caleb finished, she had begun to brighten.
Caleb folded the letter and put it back in his pocket. “You see, we have sufficient funds. In fact, we have already secured our passage.”
“No,” Elizabeth balked.
He stretched out his arm and pointed his finger, “We sail on The Benison Felicity, the one third from where we stand presently.”
The ship's bow did not glisten and the sails were a dingy shade of white. “You have secured our passage...already?”
“Aye,” Caleb answered, lifting his chin defiantly.
Elizabeth looked pained.
But Mary calmly turned her attention from the arriving ship to the Atlantic Ocean beyond. The sun danced across the water, but not as brightly as it sparkled in her eyes. At length, she leaned closer to her husband and whispered, “I have dreamed of leaving England.”
He was genuinely surprised, “Have you?”
She was about to answer when she noticed her sister’s glower had turned to fury.
“So...precisely when do we sail?” Elizabeth barked.
“Tomorrow,” answered Caleb.
“Tomorrow? Impossible! All our belongings are in the cottage, we've not given Lady Phillips sufficient notice and she'll not give us references without it. How are we to make a new home in America without bed clothing, dishes and...and...Caleb, we have no pots!”
It was Uriah who answered, “We will buy pots in American. We will buy all we need once we land in the Colonies.”
Elizabeth's glare was as hot as her voice was loud, “And that is your explanation? We will simply buy all we need?”
“Do calm yourself, my dear,” said Caleb. “We sail to America and that's an end to it.”
“It is not an end to it!”
Caleb puffed his cheeks, “I was afraid of that.”
“What are we to do in America without references?”
Mary slowly raised her eyes to meet her husband's, “Sister ... I do not believe Lady Phillips would be inclined to give us references even with sufficient notice.”
“Oh, Mary, what have you done?”
“I did as my husband instructed. I threw all of Lady Philips' clothing in the pond.”
Elizabeth gasped, “No!”
“And why not?” Mary put her hands on her hips. “She is the most hateful, insufferable, spiteful woman of our entire acquaintance. She deserved it.”
Elizabeth put both hands on the top of the wall as the color fled from her face, “I believe...I am unwell.”
Mary rushed around the men to her sister’s side, “You need not be so distressed, you know. We have fine husbands and they would never make a harmful decision.” She did not notice the look the brothers exchanged. “Besides, I want to see America, pots, or no pots.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“But our references, Mary?”
“We made them up before and we can again. From the Colonies, it would take years to discover false references.” Mary put an arm around her sister's shoulder. “Consider this, Lady Phillips has no clothing. Even her under garments are in the mud.”
“Do you mean she has nothing but her night shirt?”
“Not a stitch, save perhaps a dreary brown frock, soiled mind you, hanging in our closet.”
Elizabeth pictured the Lady’s quandary in her mind and when she finally let go of the wall, her color had returned. “It has been two days. Do you think she's stopped ringing that bloody bell yet?”
Caleb and Uriah reeled back at the same time, “Bloody?”
Just as quickly as she got happy, Elizabeth glared again, “Now that I think of it, I am quite put out! I should have liked seeing that! She has nothing to put on, her chamber pot overflows, and no one is there to tend the marketing. She must put on a servant's frock and go to town.”
Mary burst out laughing, “Elizabeth, our frocks are too short and too tight in the bosom.”
“And there you have it! We should have stayed to watch!”
Caleb chuckled, “My dear, I am shocked...delightfully so.”
Elizabeth went to him, reached up on tip toe and kissed his cheek. “Perhaps I'll not be so tedious in America.”
“You are anything but tedious.”
She winked at him and then turned to her sister. “Oh Mary.”
“What?”
“You've a vow to keep, remember?”
“What vow? I recall no vow.”
“Of course you do not.” Elizabeth began to pursue her sister, “You promised to confess!”
A step at a time, Mary backed around the men until she was beside her husband again, I...I have nothing to confess.”
“Oh really? Was it not you who blew out the candles while she bathed, you who put salt in the cherry pie, sewed the sleeve of her favorite gown closed, and put tree sap in her bonnet? And wasn’t it you who changed the Seer’s writing so she would have to spit three times when anyone mentioned the word ‘ghost?’”
“Well...I suppose I did.”
“Yes you did, and all while she blamed me. Now you must keep your vow and confess.”
Mary tried to look defiant, “No, I won't. We are away sister, never to return.”
“Have you forgotten the post?”
“Oh very well then. I will send a post if it pleases you.”
“Good.”
Uriah surveyed each of their faces. “Is it settled then, we will sail to America?” When the other's nodded, he went on, “In that case, we have a little marketing to tend.”
“What sort of marketing?” asked Mary.
“Clothing. Fine clothing for the voyage.”
Elizabeth began to snicker, “Fine clothing indeed. We are of the lower class; we do not wear fine clothing.”
“But in the Colonies, how will they know?”
Elizabeth thought about that, “They wouldn't...couldn't know if we did not tell, I suppose.”
“Precisely.”
Mary moved closer to her husband. Her delight had turned to sorrow and when he didn't seem to notice her, she tugged on his sleeve.
“What is it?”
She could hardly speak, “I have left your mother's Bible.”
“You have not left it. I took it off the table before I woke you at Lady Phillips. It is among our things at the Inn.”
Mary took a relieved breath. She smoothed her sleeping son's jacket and looked up at her husband, “I simply cannot w
ait to meet Aunt Charlotte.”
AUGUST 1763
They were leaving England – forever perhaps, and Uriah took particular note as first his left, then his right foot departed the land of his birth. He followed the rest of his family onto the tall ship and stood next to Mary between two round, wooden, sweet casks in the center of the cluttered deck. He watched the stevedores bring their trunks up the gang plank and lower them into the hold. Then he glanced at the boy in Caleb's arms and turned back to carefully examine the dock.
Dawn had begun to erase the darkness, the evenly spaced torches along the harbor had been put out and hordes of merchants would soon begin a new day. But for now, all was quiet. A poorly dressed elderly woman standing with a few others tearfully waved her kerchief at another of the passengers. But no one on the dock looked suspicious or interested in the Carsons. Still, Uriah was ill at ease.
Mary noticed the tightened muscles in his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. She glanced at him often and tried to follow his gaze, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. When he walked to the side of the ship, she went with him.
With a nod of his head, the Captain of The Benison Felicity ordered the anchor weighed, the gang plank hoisted and the ropes holding the ship to the massive round dock posts untied. Then with stout poles, the stevedores shoved the ship away from the dock. Sailors in baggy long pants, loose fitting shirts with vests, and short round hats scrambled up the masts. They worked the rigging and the early morning breeze inflated the mainsail first, causing it to snap taut with a loud noise. The ordinary seamen quickly tended its sheeting. Then other sails were loosened, their bottom edges were allowed to fall toward the deck, and the rigging was quickly tied as the wind caught them as well. And with the help of the tide, the ship slowly began to leave the port.
Then he saw it. Uriah's eyes held fast to the movement in the shadow of a distant doorway. Mary saw it too and eased closer to her husband. The man hurried out of the shadows and when Mary saw his red coat, she grabbed hold of Uriah's arm. She felt his elbow bend and his other hand wrap protectively over hers, but she didn't take her attention off the Redcoat. Uriah squinted, but the sun was in his eye and the man’s face was unclear.
The Redcoat began to run between the stacks of crates and then rushed down the dock until at last; he stood in the place where The Benison Felicity had taken on her last passenger. He was too late. He removed his three-cornered hat and watched as the ship sailed away. “America it is, then,” he mumbled. He put his hat back on, turned, and walked away.
Standing in the middle of the ship, Caleb and Elizabeth wore new clothes and excitedly watched the sailors high above, taking their eyes away only long enough to try to understand John's brisk chatter. Then they followed other passengers up the steps to the poop deck in the stern. From a distance, Bristol's shoreline was magnificent. Beyond the docked tall ships, water front shops looked brand new, with high church steeples and blue-green hillsides behind them.
Uriah relaxed and smiled at his wife, “I find it pleasing when you take my arm, Mary.”
“Do you?”
“Indeed I do. Shall we join the others?” He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he guided her up the stairs until they stood not far from Caleb and Elizabeth. Mostly men, the passengers grew quiet as the ship sailed out of the bay into the Atlantic Ocean and easily fell into rhythm with the gentle waves. Then everyone on board watched the high cliffs and rolling hills of England slowly decrease in size.
At first, Uriah only meant the words for Mary. But in the stillness, his voice carried and steadily rose – until the words his father had written on the paper that long ago fateful night boomed across the water.
“Were that you were the England of my passion. But you are not. Those you empower over us are steeped in useless pride. Their greed is such, they require the last farthing from a man. They deny us civility, leave us to languish in a grievous existence and require us to engage in wars no dead man has ever won.
Oh England, how can it be? You yield to us the serenity of your peaceful lakes, yet withhold the least measure of benevolence. How can we give you our beloved sons and daughters when we fear they too will live without benefit of your affection?
England, oh England, can you not see – it is we, the lesser of us who loves you so very well?”
When Uriah finished, the first mate removed his cap and began to sing. His baritone voice was powerful and the words of an old Gaelic love song filled the air. Soon, his shipmates joined in.
Mary listened. Then she leaned close and whispered, “It is the same song your mother taught me.”
“Aye.”
“Is it a sign she sails with us?”
“Mary, do you see the child in my brother's arms? In him is my father's kindness and your father's wisdom. He has my mother's music and your mother's laughter. We do not leave our parents in England. They sail with us...in the heart of a little boy.”
Elizabeth wore a new pink frock with a matching bonnet and a golden locket. She smiled and tried to memorize all the names of the passengers, but the first mate introduced them quickly and too soon, led the Carsons down off the poop deck.
“Step lively, Miss,” first mate Masters said, pointing to the maze of coiled ropes. “You'll find the rigging a bit much at first, but you'll get on with it.”
“Thank you, Mister Masters. I must say, your vernacular is most unusual.”
“I'm a Colonist is all, Miss.” He led her to the hatch and then down the stairs to the main room below deck. “The Benison was built in Massachusetts of the purest Virginia pine.”
“Indeed?” Elizabeth struggled to adjust her eyes to the dim light.
“I was born in Charleston, Miss, and glad of it,” Master's went on, lending a hand to the others as they descended the stairs. “We speak the same English, with a wee bit of Prussian, French, Spanish and Irish blarney added to confound the British.”
Mary giggled, “Did you hear him, husband? The Colonies have given up the King's English.”
“I fail to see the advantage, the King's English is all we know,” Uriah said.
Master's eyed the grinning child in Caleb's arms, “He's a fine one, right enough. Got me a boy of seven in Boston. Now, this here be the 'tween deck, and...”
Elizabeth slowly took in the dampness of the room. It was brightened only by scant sunlight coming through the hatch and a solitary candle with its holder nailed to a table. Chairs were bolted to the floor and large barrels were stacked two high with a narrow passageway between them. In the opposite direction, wooden boxes were piled from floor to ceiling and bound by thick ropes. They too were separated by a walkway.
The first mate unwound the cord around two cupboard door knobs, pulled out a shiny brass candle holder, a fresh candle, and shoved it into place. His legs were apart to steady himself against the rocking of the ship. He lit the candle from the one on the table, handed it to Uriah and repeated the process for himself.
“This way Miss.” He led them down the aisle between the boxes and soon they passed two small chambers, one on each side. Well worn canvas sheets hung from the ceiling and served as makeshift doors. Another row of boxes were stacked to the ceiling and separated the smaller chambers from the larger room in the bow of the ship. Masters turned, removed his short, narrow-rimmed hat and grinned. A tooth was missing from the side of his mouth. “And here ye be.”
“I see,” said Elizabeth, glancing at the unmade, narrow beds. Their trunks were stacked against a wall in the hull and bedding was piled on top.
Mary's attention was drawn to a two foot diameter pole in the center of the room with leather loops nailed midway up. “What might these be?”
“They are for hanging on when the sea is not so calm as it is today,” Masters answered.
“And we will abide this...for how many weeks?” asked Elizabeth.
“No more than six or seven, Miss.” Disturbed by Elizabeth's frown, he glanced at the wooden beds stacked two high a
gainst opposite walls. “Ah, ‘tis the mattress. Rest assured, these be the finest straw-filled mattresses in all of Bristol. The Captain had 'em bought special. The Benison is a transport, you see, not fit for passengers normally.” His words trailed off.
Uriah smiled, “Mister Masters, the fault is mine. I neglected to explain the inconveniences to our wives.”
“'Tis your first voyage?”
“Aye,” Caleb answered.
“And our last,” Elizabeth mumbled.
“Then you'll be needing particulars about the comfort buckets and binding the boy to the bed when the waves toss the ship.”
Mary became alarmed, “Bind him?”
“Only in rough seas, Miss. The waves will toss the boy off the bed. But you've no need to fret; we leave in plenty of time to reach the Colonies before the Winter Westerlys.”
“Mister Masters, how many passengers are aboard?” Mary asked.
“Twenty-nine, Miss. You be two of the four married and the boy the only child. And a handsome boy he is too, Miss. The other married be in the chambers we passed in the middle. The unmarried and the crew quarters be set to stern.”
“How many unmarried are there?” asked Caleb.
“Just ten, Sir.”
“And why do so many sail without family?”
“They are the King's undesirables, but they be no danger,” he quickly added.
Elizabeth's brow wrinkled even deeper, “What sort of undesirables?”
“Indebted mostly. We gave 'em a sharp bathing and washed their clothes just yesterday.” Masters lowered his voice and leaned closer to Caleb. “They be forced to America.”
“I see.”
“Some be maimed, some awkward, and some not worked a day in their lives, so the King dump's 'em on our shores. Well, best I get topside.” Masters darted back down the passageway.
Mary watched him go, and then turned to the others, “What do you imagine is in the boxes?”
Answered Caleb, “Badly needed goods, no doubt...tools, paper and the post.” He sat John down on a lower bed, took Uriah's candle and examined the side of the boxes. “They are unmarked.”
Uriah shrugged and walked to their trunks. He removed the pile of bedding, unlatched the largest trunk, lifted the lid and rummaged through the clothing until he found his loaded pistol.
The Promise Page 7
