Emma sat in the kitchen where she contemplated Martha's bleak future. Emma loved Martha as if she were her own flesh and blood and anyone could see that Jebediah Whittaker was the worst possible match for the impetuous, stubborn young woman. A girl's wedding day was supposed to be something dreams were made of, not the tense angry farce that had just taken place. Emma did not understand why John McGuire would have chosen such a mismatch for his only child. Unfortunately, there was nothing Emma could do about the situation, she picked up her mop and with quick rough strokes, took her frustrations out on the already spotless floor.
Three days later on a dark and rainy morning, the Whittakers boarded a ship for the Americas. The gray clouds hung low in the sky making the morning seem more like late afternoon. Rain pelted the crowd; the dockyard fast becoming a muddy shallow lake that engulfed the stacks of trunks and crates. Open umbrellas battling for space, the crowded passengers made their way through the water, women's skirts raised and children perched on men's shoulders. In her dark, sullen mood Martha found the name of the ship to be ironic. Freshly painted on the bow were the words, The Salvation and although she looked at them with scorn that first day, they soon became her inspiration.
Even as they boarded, Martha plotted her escape. She contemplated running down the gangplank just before the ship sailed. She would get lost in the crowd on the wharf and be free at last. Somehow she would get away from Jebediah.
The ship was loaded to capacity with most of the passengers traveling steerage; only a dozen cabins were available to the small number of wealthier travelers. Martha, dreading the sea voyage, was relieved to hear that they would have one of the cabins. She could not imagine spending weeks crowded together with these tattered commoners, sleeping in hammocks. She tried to avoid the envious glances of the poor women as she proceeded past. The other women's well-worn clothes were soaking wet, tattered children huddled close to stay warm. Her designer gown was out of place on a ship full of immigrants hoping for a new life in the New World. Martha could not understand why they had not taken one of the more modern ships. Surely Jebediah was not without sufficient funds to make them all as comfortable as possible. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and her head held high under her umbrella, as Jebediah led them through the maze of bodies and trunks. She had her first glimpse of the children this morning and she was not impressed. They were unnaturally quiet and sullen for young boys. All three of them refused to look at her and not a word passed between them. Jebediah had better find a Nanny quickly, she thought to herself.
As soon as they located their tiny cabin, Jebediah ushered the three young ones and Martha into the cabin, quickly exiting and locking the door behind him. A surprised Martha heard the lock slam shut. “You won't keep me locked in here forever, Jebediah Whittaker.” She shouted through the locked cabin door, frustrated fists pounding on the hard wood.
Fury filled her as the seriousness of the situation began to dawn. She turned and took stock of the sparsely decorated room. She soon realized there were only two narrow bunks and a single straw mat for sleeping. The boys would have to sleep on the floor. A tattered dressing screen stood in one corner, a small table accompanied by a small faded mirror in the other. She wandered over to fix her hair in the tiny mirror. The furniture was rough and basic. Questions whirled around in her head. Where can I hang my clothes? Do people really sleep on such tiny uncomfortable cots? Does he really expect me to live in such primitive conditions? This is unbelievable. Did my father not check Jebediah's financial situation before marrying me off? The possible answers to her questions filled her with dread.
Jebediah was worse than she had imagined. He was tall, extremely thin and his face held a perpetual scowl. His black suit was several years old and showed his lack of interest in fashion. She had been relieved to learn he would leave Graystone right after the ceremony and not return for two days. This morning was the first time she had seen Jebediah since their marriage and the only sounds he had uttered had been orders. He was eerily silent and seemed to be surrounded by a dark cloud wherever he went. His dark, heavily browed eyes sent chills of fear down her spine whenever she looked at him. Her body shuttered involuntarily just thinking about him. Her mind drawn back to the tiny cabin, she realized the three boys were sitting on the cot staring at her as if she were a monster. She glared back, seeing them as a troublesome burden that she would soon be rid of. Soon you three will be the nanny's responsibility.
Her days and nights were filled with thoughts of escape. She stood on deck staring into the vastness of the deep blue ocean. The cold, damp steel pressed against her palms as she gripped the railing. Who can help me get off of this ship? Martha was married to a man whom she despised, a man who did not speak even to his children, except to relay orders. She was beginning to think that Jebediah had very little money. He showed no sign of abundance. She now had full responsibility for Jebediah's young sons, which in her opinion was the only conceivable reason for the marriage. She angrily remembered how Jebediah had laughed in her face when she inquired about the nanny. It was now obvious he expected her to look after the children, with no help at all. Why would Father condemn me like this? What did I ever do to deserve this? “ I must not give up, I must think,” she reflected aloud with stubborn determination. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the cold railing. The salty spray from the sea splashed her face; she tasted salt on her tongue as she licked the tiny droplets from her lips. Her body set in a determined stance, she stared at the ocean contemplating her dilemma.
On the deck just beyond her sight, the boys were playing checkers with some of the other children. Back in the cabin, Jebediah sat alone counting the money he had won in the card game. A mere pittance compared to the countless thousands he had in England and hidden away in his luggage on ship. Nonetheless, he admired each coin as if it were his last. He thought back to the earlier confrontation when Martha suggested a nanny be hired to care for the boys. The look on her face was priceless when he told her there would be no nanny. She had a lot of surprises coming to her. A cynical sneer crossed his face as he realized the irony of her statement. Weeks ago, he had wrestled with the possibility of simply hiring a nanny for the boys and making this trip however, he soon realized that poor homesteaders would not easily identify with a man who could afford a nanny. That would not suit his plan. No, the idea of marrying and traveling as an immigrant family was much better. A wife would have to obey her husband; besides, why pay a nanny when a wife would care for the children and do his bidding for free. He laughed to himself as he placed the coins in his pocket, patting them lovingly with his hand.
The ship continued its voyage, passengers seldom seeing land or other ships. Porpoises followed the ship, playing in the bow waves and providing entertainment for the children. A pod of whales was seen migrating north; the huge creatures broke the surface, terrifying the women and amusing the children.
About a week into the voyage, Martha and some of the other women were on deck attempting to prepare a meal of porridge and potato soup in two large cauldrons. She had been shocked to learn that she was expected to cook food at all, never mind on deck with the commoners. The first mate handed out provisions to the women, while the steward and cook minded the fires while supervising the cooking. Martha was no help, having never prepared a meal in her young life. Her negative attitude did not win her any friends amongst the weary women. Most of them were traveling to an unknown land as a last resort, frightened and unsure. This upper class woman represented everything that they would never have or the oppressive masters they were leaving. Martha did what she could, keeping her eyes down to avoid the stares of the other women. I hate you Jebediah Whittaker. I will get away from you as soon as I can. Her shoulders were tense, her movements abrupt making her suppressed anger evident to everyone. After an hour on deck, the waves were increasing in height and the wind was starting to roar. Boiling food splashed over the deck as water gushed over the side extinguishing the fires. The sea became
a rushing monster, with the ship lying first on one side and then on the other. It was as if the ship were first on top of a great hill and then down in the valley, constantly pitching from side to side. Looking up at the waves, a terrified Martha thought they appeared as high as mountains looming over the ship. Panicking she grasped at anything that was secured to avoid being washed overboard. Sails were pulled down and the ship was left to the mercy of the waves. The wind howled and the water rushed across the deck, boxes and contents rattling, men and women staggering and falling in all directions. The men quickly gathered the women together and shoved them down into the hold. The body of the ship cracked and groaned with the strain and passengers did their best to stay in their seats or cots. Children and the elderly were tied to their cots or to support posts to prevent them sliding across the floor with every pitch of the ship.
Martha was terrified. The ship's tossing made walking almost impossible. Martha found Jebediah and the boys and was ordered into the cabin by her husband. She grabbed at Jebediah's coat to steady herself as the ship pitched. He pulled his arm away abruptly, instructing her to stop her squealing and keep moving. Her hand dropped to her side in rejection. As soon as they arrived at the tiny cabin, he thrust the door open and ushered her and the boys inside. Slamming the door, he left them alone, ordering her and the three youngsters to remain there for the rest of the squall. The boys seemed unaffected by the storm, playing together on the floor ignoring her as usual. Removing her wet cotton blouse and wool skirt behind the small screen, she changed into dry clothing. Her lips pursed critically as she smoothed the wrinkled garments. Martha inspected the stained wool skirt, wondering if it would ever be right again. Carefully she hung it on the hook and smoothed the wet fabric with her hands. Ruined, my clothes are ruined. Thinking she would be happy to get off this ship and give her clothes the attention they deserved, she adjusted the round collar on her blouse in the tiny faded mirror. For the time being she was relieved to be off the deck and away from the chore of cooking. Who could cook on a pitching rocking ship and those disgusting women smelled foul, what next? Although the storm was distracting, with items that were not fixed rolling and pitching with the ship, she sat in the only chair contemplating her situation. She tugged at the lace on her sleeve, ignoring the boys completely. Martha thought back to the first night on the ship when she learned that incredibly, it was she that would sleep on the straw mat. Jebediah settled all three boys in one cot and climbed into the second cot himself, leaving her standing open mouthed in the middle of the room. She argued that the boys should be sleeping on the floor instead of her, but he would have none of it. He simply gestured to the mat and then with a cynical grin nodded to the narrow space beside him. She chose the straw mat. Jebediah was a force to be reckoned with. She could put up a good fight and often win an argument with her father but Jebediah was another story. For now, she simply complied.
The ship's pitching from side to side was causing his stomach to rebel but Jebediah remained calm. Taking this immigrant ship had been a brilliant idea. He had saved hundreds of pounds over the cost of the more luxurious ships and it gave him an opportunity to observe the behavior of the poor peasants. He would blend in very well by the time they arrived in the Americas. It would also take some of the polish off his new wife. He had not realized she was quite so stubborn and troublesome when he chose her for his plan. It just seemed so easy to include her hand in the deal with McGuire, but she would need considerable discipline. He was determined to look the part of the immigrant family, arriving in the new world to seek a better life and she would have to shape up or else. He felt nothing for her one- way or the other. She was simply a means to an end and he would not stand for any nonsense. Leaning against the creaking post, he listened, as the men talked of acres and acres of land available for next to nothing to families willing to travel into the unchartered territories of the Americas. Acres and acres of land for next to nothing sounded like just the thing for Jebediah, especially when he had also heard that a railway was being considered through the very land they wanted to settle. There was gold in the west all right and Jebediah intended to get all he could.
Blackness filled the cabin as night fell. Jebediah and the boys were snoring loudly in the cots. The sea continued to toss the ship to and fro. The floorboards were hard and uncomfortable and sleep was impossible. Martha dozed for a few hours out of sheer exhaustion but woke often during the long night. Her nerves were frazzled, not only from lack of sleep but also from this uncomfortable, trying journey. Her mind was overflowing with thoughts. Never in her pampered life had she lived in such primitive, crowded surroundings. Hands, red and chapped from the lye soap pushed her hair from her face. She looked around the dark cabin. Her beautiful dresses hung stained and wrinkled. How desperately she wanted a hot bath. The boys were troublesome and she wanted nothing to do with them, let alone play at being their mother. Although she was obsessed with it, a reasonable plan of escape avoided her. The only thing she was sure of, was that she would escape. She had no intention of staying in this farce of a marriage. This sea voyage was turning out to be more of a nightmare than she had imagined.
The second week of the voyage, a sudden and deadly illness overtook the ship. Many of the passengers and crew were stricken with violent seizures and vomiting. Feverish, weak and ghostly white passengers were confined to the cramped, crew's quarters, which soon became the infirmary. Most of the women, including Martha were called upon to aid the only doctor onboard. Dr. Wheeler, a kindly gentleman of about 50 years of age, worked long and diligently to thwart the spread of this unknown illness. People were housed in bunks and hammocks and the smell of vomit and urine was thick in the air. The cries of the delirious patients could be heard above the roar of the ocean. The ship was tossed so violently at times, they were sure that it would tear in two. Many dead patients, young and old, were buried at sea in the following dread filled weeks.
Martha did her best to help but with very little experience in the care of the sick, she really thought that she was of little consequence. However, she was thankful for the distraction. Dr. Wheeler was supportive and encouraging as they labored long into the dark and dreary nights. He showed her how to tie roasted kidneys or raw potatoes to the soles of the patient's feet to break a fever. Camphor cakes secured in flannel bags were tied around the necks of those who were vomiting uncontrollably. A mixture of coal soot and sugar was administered to those with diarrhea and Martha gained a great deal of knowledge from the kindly doctor during those nights.
Dr. Wheeler could not help but think that a beautiful, young woman like Martha should not be condemned to life with a man like Jebediah Whittaker. In his opinion, Whittaker was miserly, ruthless, and perhaps even cruel. The doctor happened to be in the corridor the day the Whittakers arrived on board. He watched as Whittaker locked his family in the cabin, hearing Martha's protest and her fists pummeling the inside of the cabin door. He would never forget the icy stare the man delivered to him as he passed. Whittaker was always pleasant and friendly in the company of the Captain or the other men, yet he was rude and demanding with ship's crew. Dr. Wheeler observed, he was ruthless in card games and never hesitated to take a fellow passenger's money in what was supposed to be a pleasant pastime not a serious game of chance. Whittaker almost seemed oblivious to the fact that he had a wife at all. He had even witnessed the man brutally striking one of his boys for some minor disobedience. Dr. Wheeler could not fathom why Martha was married to such a scoundrel.
Depression was beginning to set in. Sitting in the dimly lit hold, the smell of sickness all around, Martha's spirits sank lower and lower. Every request she had made of her husband was rejected. Even simple things like a request for hot water to bathe in, were denied. Try as she might she could not figure out how to escape. Every day her situation grew worse. She was unaccustomed to having no control. In the past she had always come up with a plan to get what she wanted. Martha was beginning to realize just how serious this situation
was. Her body, unaccustomed to labor, ached from lack of sleep combined with long hours tending the sick. The other women avoided her. She had no one to talk to other than Dr. Wheeler and he was busy with the sick and dying. As she tended to a deathly ill woman not much older than herself, Martha was overcome with a sudden desire to simply leap into the freezing, violent sea. “ I can't endure another day of this miserable existence,” she thought in desperation, tears running down her cheeks, a terrible throbbing in her chest. Her entire situation seemed hopeless and at that moment she envied the young woman dying in her arms.
Just then Dr. Wheeler void of color, sweating profusely and looking extremely tired interrupted her thoughts, “Come quickly Martha, we've many sick children that need attention.” It was then that she decided that Dr. Wheeler might be her liberator. Her hand moved to her hair, smoothing the out of control tendrils into place. At this point she knew she was grasping at straws but she could not give up. That night, she discussed her situation with him and she learned that it was his intention to depart the ship at the first stop. The doctor suggested that, perhaps they could fabricate some story that would allow her to accompany him while in port and then execute her escape. Although completely exhausted, she returned to her cabin elated with some tiny glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. Martha lay on the scratchy straw mattress, the hard floor beneath, oblivious to the rocking of the ship and fell into a deep sleep. She dreamt of freedom. She was back in Graystone, dancing the Viennese waltz with Austin, dressed in her most beautiful gown. Music played and champagne flowed.
Upon waking and finding herself alone, Martha allowed herself a few minutes lying on the hard straw mat, to compose her plan of escape. Freedom, what a glorious unappreciated thing it is. Never did she think she would be in such a position where her every action was filled with her obsession to escape. Her life in England had been one of privilege and contentment. How could my life have changed into such a horrible, nightmare? Her heart was beating rapidly with anticipation. Doctor Wheeler had been very sympathetic and kind. Jebediah could rot in hell for all she cared; she was leaving for good. For the first time in weeks she felt like her old self again. She almost smiled as she left the cabin.
Dreams and Nightmares Page 2
