by Leah Fleming
He seized my hand and kissed it. ‘Stay here in the city. Don’t go back. The Boyers will take you in. I don’t want to lose you.’
I pulled back my hand. ‘Would it were so simple. You forget I am indentured for four years to the Emsworths to pay for my passage. I am bound by the faith of my father to be of service to Friends. Too many saints have perished in the crossing. I am not free to make choices, not yet and when I am I must look to my own persuasion or be cast out.’
Jordan sighed, ‘I don’t understand any of that. I’m just a simple soldier. All I know is that each day without the chance of seeing you is dreary and long. From our first meeting on the ship I knew there was something about you that captured my attention.’
‘Yet we’ve only seen each other but four times since the ship,’ I replied, my heart leaping at his words.
‘So you have counted them too.’ Jordan smiled with such warmth. ‘We’re young. Everything is before us in this new country. I have nothing to offer you yet but hope for the future.’
‘No, no,’ I pulled away. ‘It can’t be like that for us. I’m sorry, I must go.’ I ran towards the lodgings. He did not follow but yelled across the street for all to hear.
‘You are for me, Joy Moorside, and I will wait . . .’
30
I was sustained by Jordan Thane’s plea for many a long day in the months that followed George’s return to us. Mary did not wait for us to make the journey home but had sailed downriver to see him for herself. We were contented passengers with the boy safe by our side until I told her how the apothecary had lost our collection. ‘How it happened I have no proof but he was in drink that night.’
‘That’s enough, Joy. If you’ve nothing good to say then hold thy tongue. If it weren’t for that man our George would be dead.’ Mary was having none of it.
‘But I am just saying, he may not be all he seems, or his sister.’ Perhaps I should have spoken out then but the moment passed in acrimony.
‘Did you not hear a word I said? I fear too much time with worldly folk has coarsened thee. Don’t think your own conduct with yon soldier had not gone unnoticed.’
So the gossips had been at work again, spying on my conversations however innocent and making mischief. I was in a bad humour as we landed at the little jetty. George was carried into the waiting arms of his father Joseph and Jacob stood by his side ready to greet us. He held my hand as I disembarked. ‘Well done Joy, you’ve kept your charge safe from harm.’
It felt as if I had been away for months, not days, but in no time it was back to the daily grind with a troubled heart. My thoughts were still downriver, reliving those precious hours in Philadelphia with Jordan Thane and the Boyers. My discontent was like bile at the back of my throat, burning and spoiling the taste of everything I swallowed. I lost interest in glovemaking and the leather jerkins I was sewing for the boys against the winter chills to come. Liddy was jealous of her brother getting attention and had fits of temper, so it was my duty to appease her with trips to pick wild flowers and to paddle by the shore, watching the native boys fishing. We picked shells and pretty pebbles.
My life was no longer my own, I sighed, feeling sorry I had made the decision to leave England for this harsh land. Yet walking through the forest full of flaming leaves under a glorious canopy of tall trees, how could I not admire our achievement in surviving in a town made out of wilderness? If only I felt I belonged amongst them, but I still felt an outsider. Being a servant did not sit easy on my pride. Had I not once been a Justice’s granddaughter? Now I was at everyone’s beck and call and what had happened to my faith?
All this changed at First Day Meeting when we were joined by a travelling band of preachers who had newly arrived from Chesapeake Bay and were heading north to Boston, holding meetings of encouragement wherever they found hospitality among clusters of Friends.
Among the visitors was one James Hartley from York who belonged to a network of Friends across the county and he brought to me the most welcome of letters from my uncle, Roger Windebank. Such unexpected news warmed my heart as I pored over the tightly written page, savouring every word.
Greetings Beloved Friend and Sister.
It was with joy and relief we received thy letter from America knowing thee’s settled well and safe from shipwreck . . .
There was news of all I knew in the village, the passing to Glory of my old schoolteacher’s wife, Isobel Sampson. Cousin Mallory was to be wed and Dilly in service in a farm close by. I closed my eyes to imagine them all together under those open grey moors and that stretch of starlit sky, looking at the same moon’s face that lit our path. To be so far apart and yet so linked by love and kinship brought me to tears.
It was Jacob who caught me in my sorrow and gave me comfort. ‘Home is always where the heart dwells. This is thy dwelling place now; but all who share our Light are never far away.’
Later that evening we all gathered to listen to our visitors who stood in turn to exhort us to deeper faith and trust in God’s will for this settlement. Only by holding our beliefs would we prosper. There was a woman in their company whose name I recall as Susanna. Her words seemed to speak to me alone.
‘Great truths such as ours are dearly bought, not found by chance on the highway or wafted in on a gentle breeze but grasped in the great struggle of the soul when buffeted by a contrary wind and harsh currents. We sail with the lantern of Truth to guide us against temptation’s rocks that will wreck us and strand us on a desert shore. We are a peculiar people set apart. Now is the seed time. God alone knows the end harvest of our efforts. It is hidden from us. Our duty is to sew and scatter, nurture new growth, not seeking any reward other than doing His will.’
Who could not say ‘Amen’ to these stirring words? I felt my spirit lifted, my resolve stiffened to be in the presence of holy missioners who had suffered much to give us hope for the future. When I came out of the meeting it was with a lighter heart than of late. Here was where I was meant to be, among people of my own kind, saved for a purpose to be an instrument of God’s will. I was on fire with good intentions and it was Jacob, seeing me flushed with excitement, who leapt to my side.
‘Wonderful words, sister Joy. Just what was wanted to fire us with fresh zeal. We have been lukewarm of late, lacking the drive to plough forwards. Now is the time to teach the children of the Lenape labourers to read and write and learn our language. Time for deeds, not words.’
‘Aye, Friend,’ I answered him. ‘We have held off long enough on many things. Now our edge is sharpened once more.’
Jacob’s black eyes flashed with new interest at my response. ‘My thoughts, sister, my thoughts too.’ Now he was looking at me in such a way that I sensed what was coming next.
‘I was concerned that I might never find a helpmeet as would love and serve the truth as Ellinor Holt. For our hearts can only open to such as we can really trust and I trust thee, Joy Moorside.’ He held out his hand to me.
In the first flush of enthusiasm for all that had happened that evening, it seemed as if all my doubtings were resolved. In taking Jacob’s hand in intimate friendship, I would no longer be an onlooker here but be drawn ever deeper into the life of Good Hope through his work and good standing. I would continue the work that Ellinor had so wanted to promote alongside him.
With Jacob by my side there would be no wavering, no more temptation. We would support each other on our spiritual journey. I had been led to this moment of decision, all resistance subdued, so I took the hand offered, looking at him directly. ‘This must be approved by others,’ I cautioned.
‘Of course, but I see no obstacle to us joining together, do you?’
‘I’m still indentured to the Emsworths.’
‘That may cause a delay but nothing more.’
Why did I feel as if we were discussing a piece of land at a price to be bargained for? But there was such relief, too. Of all the single men, Jacob was the most worthy, being both educated and passionate for his faith.
I could not do better, and yet . . .
When I lay on my mattress hugging this secret, I could hear Jordan Thane’s voice ringing in my ears: ‘Joy, you are for me.’ I buried my head in the pillow but there was no hiding place from the promises I had just made or the feeling that I was making a terrible error of judgement. At least there would be no haste in the matter of a wedding.
When a man wants to wed a woman in our community there are certain protocols that must be observed. Everything must be set before committees, searches of ancestry must be held, records must be consulted but our family credentials were excellent. I was still bound in service and there would be no rush to link us together in matrimony, but there was an understanding that would allow us time to walk out together and make preparations for our new life and home.
There was still the matter of Titus Cranke to address with Jacob and since they were still in lodgings together I was reluctant to speak of my suspicions. I still hoped to steer Tamar into trusting me enough to speak out against him but she avoided me at every turn.
After that first burst of enthusiasm for revival, attendances at meeting slumped again as people prepared for their second winter older and wiser as to what must be done.
Joseph busied himself repairing our thatched roof and adding layers of clay to the inner walls to seal us from the wet. The boys took a cart to collect kindle for the fire and there was much chopping and repairing the clapboard walls. Now we had a barn for hay and livestock perhaps we might be less stretched for fodder and food.
It was the time for gathering, pickling and sealing up vegetables, drying beans and storing roots. I made visits to the Lenape camp first to thank the medicine man for his suggestion and then to buy more animal skins to use as blankets. I brought wampum shells that came from the sea shore and were much valued. White Deer was busy re-stocking her herbs and showed me all the useful medicines and oils they used when sickness struck.
Our families learned that corn, squashes and beans would eke out our stews and meats but it was the special wild plants that held so many secret remedies I wanted to know; willow bark, cherry tree, juniper and the seeds that made dull food flavoursome. I watched them tapping the sap from the maple tree and tasted its amber sweetness.
Many native men now worked alongside us, boat-building, hunting and learning our metalwork skills. They didn’t work in the fields as that was work for women but they did want their children to speak our language, so the promise to hold lessons in the meeting house began and for a short while my little school prospered.
Then a new family arrived from England who were relatives of the carpenter, Amos. There was a stir of excitement as letters were passed around with news of a new king and battles in foreign countries.
The family had three children and were eager for them to meet others of their own ages so Patience and Charity came to play with Liddy and joined in the little sampler-making lesson I held. Patience was attentive but Charity kept scratching her arm and was restless. I took them all into the autumn sunshine to play games and encouraged some of the Lenape children who were standing shyly on the sidelines to join in a game of tag. I gave no thought to the matter until Liddy started to scratch and complain about spots.
‘Look at her covered from head to toe in flea bites,’ Mary complained but both of us knew these were pox marks, not bites. Most of us had suffered from this ailment as children as had Georgie and Sam so I gave it no mind. Her fever was short lived and the scars soon faded but it was with horror that I learned that the whole Lenape village was laid low with the disease. Both children who played with us died as did many more and the chief forbade any contact between us. No Lenape children came to school after this outbreak and when I saw Little Bear on the river he told me that White Deer had also suffered much from the outbreak too. I prayed her child had been spared.
‘How could such a mild skin affliction cause such devastation?’ I asked Jacob on our evening walk down to the river.
‘The children brought the pox from the ship. It is a setback to our plans but all will be well. Don’t take the blame on thyself. Thomas assures me that once the pox is caught it doesn’t bite again.’
‘Has Tamar Black spoken yet?’ I changed the subject, knowing it was time to address my fears out loud.
‘Not that I’ve noticed. Why do you ask?’
I took in a deep breath and began my rehearsed speech. ‘The man we call Thomas I once knew as Titus Cranke. Although much changed and aged, it is surely him, and he was more a conjuror and mountebank than an apothecary. He had a wife called Dora and they were cruel people, believe me.’
I was waiting for a tirade of disbelief but Jacob just smiled and patted my hand. ‘Ah, so you know his story, then?’
‘Only that he stole when he could and snatched children from their true families. Why, what has he told you?’
‘Many things in confidence which are between him and his Maker. His wife betrayed him with another man and caused him to be cast in prison. It was there in Hull that Friends came to his aid and brought him to the light, so that when he was convinced of our beliefs he took on a new name for his new life. Coming to America was all part of the new beginning.’
I was taken aback by this confession but still unconvinced. ‘But Tamar is not his real sister, is she?’
‘Only in Christ, as we all are to each other. He befriended her after the shipwreck to protect her from harm. Her wits are addled and confused. You must pity the poor woman, not condemn her. See the best in people, not the worst.’
‘Did he mention he knew me in Leeds, though?’
‘No, why should he, the old world is past and all things connected to it.’
‘But he lost our collection and was in drink. I saw it for myself.’
He gave me a look of pity as if talking to a child. ‘We all have weaknesses to fight. The upset of the robbery turned him to the ale pot, no doubt. Don’t judge until you know your own frailties.’
Was Jacob preaching at me when all I wanted to know was the truth about his lodgers? Titus had spun some story but it did not sit right with me. The fear in Tamar’s eyes told me of other less savoury doings that weighed heavy on the woman. It looked as if I was alone in this search to find out the real reason behind their coming. Jacob might be easily satisfied but I was not.
31
It is wearisome now to recount all the afflictions of the following winter season, cut off as we were from neighbours and city, thrown once more on our own resources but our survival assured by better preparations. Mary and I spent many hours relining our petticoats and jackets with a layer of sheep fleece. We padded the boys’ clothes and Liddy’s dress so she waddled like a duck but was kept warm. The only danger was her getting too close to the fire grate. At night we heated bricks and stones in the fire and then wrapped them in rags, taking them to bed to warm the new feather mattresses that softened our sleep and kept us from scratchy straw.
My glovemaking efforts were renewed with a supply of raccoon skins. No one had frostbitten fingers but our toes were chapped with chilblains and we ran barefoot into the snow to relieve the itching. But winter held us in its treacherous grip and two neighbours were lost in the snowdrifts looking for stock. Their bodies were only found when the ice melted.
Jacob came on his snowshoes to visit us and it was common knowledge that we had an understanding. His lodgers continued to stay, Titus providing what remedies he knew from his decreasing store of salves and pastilles. I had never seen him out gathering wild herbs in the woods as would be sensible. Tamar helped silently in the preparation and cooked their meals but I never felt comfortable in their presence. Two women in the keeping room did not ease the tensions between us. It was hard for me to accept that Titus had a new life here, as did we all; but the unease I felt about him never left me, making our few conversations stilted and brief.
On the finer days when we walked back after First Day Meeting, Jacob escorted me, discussing who had spoken in the Spirit, who had
said too much or too little. Why must he dissect our worship piece by piece until I had heard everything twice over? He never caught my hand as sweethearts do. It was if I was his sounding board, not a treasured companion. Sometimes we went the whole way back in silence. First Day especially in dreary weather is always a strain, there being no playing out for the children or sewing or field work that might take advantage of a dry spell. But boredom was relieved when we fed visiting preachers and visiting Friends who brought welcome news of the world outside our township.
I tried to put all thoughts of Philadelphia behind me, praying that Sabine was safely delivered of her baby. I couldn’t wait for the river to melt and the tracks to open up. Surely we would make a river trip down to the city to restock our provisions and I would be freed to visit the Boyers?
A determination to embrace my life in Good Hope with a less judgemental spirit and more submissive acceptance was the tight girdle that kept me looking forward to my life with Jacob. No matter what irritations life with the Emsworths could bring at times, I bridled my unruly tongue and prided myself on doing as many acts of charity among our poor as I could fit in during the long days. I tried to keep the children out of danger and mischief, playing games, doing lessons. How I longed for the sun to rise high and the greening of the shoots and leaves to begin. The wild geese flying overhead from their winter in the south lifted my spirits with new hope, but with them came news of a disturbing nature that would affect us all.
The Governor of our Province sent round a public notice to warn of unprovoked raids on isolated settlements further into the wilderness. There was tribal warfare among the native men for guns, rum and stock. The Lenape had suffered at the hands of marauding Susquehanna in the past. It was his ruling that all townships should be prepared to make defences and give musket training to all males as a precaution against an attack. This notice was duly discussed and recorded among the elders at their next preparative meeting.
