“I still don’t understand why any of us have to leave Holland.”
John awkwardly patted her hand, the way he used to do when they were both small. “There are a lot of reasons. I heard Father say—”
“You’ve been listening again,” Sarah accused.
“Do you want me to answer your question or not?” he demanded.
“Yes, please.”
“Pastor Robinson and our elders are concerned because we are getting more like the Dutch every day. We dress like them. We talk like them. I like the Dutch ways.” His brown gaze bored into her green eyes. “The Dutch are fun! They laugh and dance and sing, even on the Sabbath. What is wrong with dancing and singing? God wants us to be happy, doesn’t He?”
John didn’t wait for an answer. “Sometimes I wish our church weren’t so strict, don’t you? Sarah, we aren’t even allowed to smile in church, and the sermons are so long!”
Sarah’s hands flew to her ears. A few weeks earlier, the deaconess had boxed them because Sarah had whispered to John. “It’s no fun having your ears boxed,” she admitted.
John made an awful face. “It’s worse being whipped with a birch rod. All I did was smile when Elder Brewster told about poor old Jonah sitting in the hot sun and grumbling because a worm had eaten the plant that had given him shade.”
John stretched and yawned. “It just seems like Jonah would have learned his lesson after the big fish spit him out and he was safe.”
“It just seems like you would learn your lesson after you got us in trouble,” Sarah teased.
He only grinned. “Run back to bed, little sister. It’s almost time for Father and Mother to get up.”
“I may be a whole lot shorter, but I’m only two years younger than you are,” Sarah reminded him. “And say what you will, life in Leiden is never going to be the same.” She scooted out the door and tiptoed to her own room, and a few minutes later John heard her clatter to breakfast in the wooden shoes she liked so well.
As the day continued, John had to admit that Sarah was right about life in Leiden changing. Gossip and rumors ran wild in every home, in factories, and in fields. His neighbor Hans, who was six months older than John, was full of news about war.
“It’s feared that Spain will attack Holland,” the tall, blond boy told John as they walked along the canal. “If Spain wins, Holland will become a Catholic country instead of a Protestant one, and Spain’s royal family will rule over us. I only wish I were older and could sign up on a Dutch ship. Then I’d be able to protect my country.”
“Some of the older boys from our group already have,” John said. “What an adventure that would be.”
“Almost as much of an adventure as that wild tale I’ve heard about some of your people going to the New World,” Hans said, his long legs easily keeping pace with John. “Do you know anything about it?”
“There’s been a lot of talk,” John answered, careful not to reveal what his parents had told him, “but no one’s made any final decision that I’ve heard of. Of course, people are worried that we wouldn’t be able to worship freely if Holland lost the war.”
“No need to worry about that,” Hans argued. “We’ve got a navy that’s more than ready to defend us. Besides,” he added, his blue eyes lighting up with mischief, “if you left Leiden, who’d be able to challenge me in those skating races every winter?”
“Good point,” John agreed, “although this winter you’d better be ready to be the challenger. I’m planning on winning those races.” He glanced regretfully up at the sun. “It’s getting late. I’d better run home and get my chores done.”
“That’s the problem with you English,” Hans teased. “You don’t know how to have fun.”
John simply waved in reply as he dashed toward home, but his thoughts were troubled. Eager as he was for his family to leave for America, he would miss his fun-loving friends in Holland. And for all I know, we may not leave at all, he admitted to himself. All he could do was wait and pray that God would let Father and the others know the best thing to do. A decision must and would be made soon.
Maybe even tomorrow.
CHAPTER 3
A Startling Announcement
Two days later, John Smythe ran down the cobblestoned street toward home as fast as his long legs could carry him. Head back, elbows bent, arms swinging, he panted from running so hard but refused to slow his pace.
John’s heart pounded. Only this morning he had by chance heard of a secret meeting between Elder William Brewster and other leaders of their group. Elder Brewster was in hiding because he and Edward Winslow had smuggled pamphlets to Scotland and England condemning the king! King James had ordered their arrest, but so far the Dutch government had not been able to find them.
When John raced past the University of Leiden, he nearly ran into his pastor, John Robinson. Even though he was a pastor, John Robinson also studied and taught at the university.
“What’s the hurry?” Robinson laughed, dropping a friendly arm around the boy’s shoulder.
“I have to get home,” John said, breathing heavily. He usually enjoyed talking with his minister, but not today. News burned on his tongue, but Father and Mother frowned on talebearing. Unless something was absolutely true, their children were not to repeat it. Even if it was true, they were to discuss it only within their own family. That way no one would be hurt by idle gossip.
“Then Godspeed, lad.” John Robinson lifted his arm, and the lanky boy shot off faster than an arrow from a strong bow.
When he reached his home, John burst into the house. Taking precautions to keep his voice low, he called, “We are going! Father, Mother, Sarah, we are going to America!”
“Calm yourself, John,” his mother quietly said. She patted a low stool next to the loom where she sat weaving. “Father isn’t home from the factory yet, and I sent Sarah with food baskets for the poor.” She sighed. “Our people are sick from working too hard, especially the children. They look like little old men and women. Perhaps it is selfish, but I cannot help thanking God that you and Sarah are spared the long hours so many must work to keep food on the table. It also allows us to help others in need.”
“Things will be better in America,” John promised. He half closed his eyes, dreaming of the New World. “There are no kings to say we cannot take game from the forest. There are no kings to tax us and persecute us. Mother, we will be free.”
Not until that moment had John realized how much he desired freedom. He had thought only of the adventures they would surely have, the excitement of crossing an ocean and living in a new country.
Just then Sarah came in, carrying her now-empty baskets. “Sarah, we will be free,” John repeated.
“What are you talking about?” Sarah asked.
“We are going to America to be free. I will tell you the rest when Father comes home.”
Sarah stared silently at John. Her lips drooped, and her eyes looked enormous in her pale face.
“Sarah, dear, would you please bring me a cup of water?” Mother asked. As soon as Sarah left the room, Mother told John, “Deal gently with her, my son. She is young and also fearful, as am I.”
“You aren’t afraid, are you, Mother?” John’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “Why, you came from England and—”
“I came because we had no choice if we were to remain true to our teachings and our God.” Mother’s hands lay idle in her aproned lap, and her green eyes so like Sarah’s held shadows. “If we go to the New World, it will be for the same reason. Our group here is growing smaller and smaller.”
John thought of the small cottages near Green Gate, their meetinghouse. The poorest of their group lived in them. The Smythes were a little better off. They lived near a few other members on a narrow street. John had once shocked Sarah by declaring, “I am glad we don’t live in Stincksteeg, as the Brewsters do. Imagine, having a home in a place that means ‘Smelly Alley’!”
Now he soberly asked, “Is Father ever afraid?�
�� It seemed impossible for tall, strong William Smythe to be afraid of anything.
“Many times.” Mother smiled. “He is also one of the bravest men I know.”
“How can he be brave and frightened at the same time?” John demanded.
Sarah spoke from the doorway, her hand holding a cup of water for Mother. “He’s brave because he goes ahead and does what he must, even though he’s afraid. That’s really being brave, isn’t it, Mother? A lot braver than if a person isn’t frightened.”
“I never thought of that, but you’re right.” John leaped up from the stool. He thought of what his mother had asked him to do and added, “Sarah, you’re a lot braver than you think you are.”
His sister blushed with pleasure. “Thank you.” A cheerful whistle came from outside the door. “Father’s home. Now you can tell us what you know, John.”
The moment William Smythe set foot inside the door, John spoke. “Our leaders had a meeting last night,” he announced, feeling important to be the bearer of such news, but speaking in a quiet voice that would not carry beyond the walls and into the street. “It is as you said, Father. We cannot go back to England. Most of our friends there have been put in prison. Our leaders speak of a colony in the New World called Virginia. They say we can also go there and start a colony, one where we can live and worship as we choose.”
“How do you know these things?” his father wanted to know. “I hope you have not been guilty of spying again.”
John felt his face warm at the word again, but he proudly said, “No, sir. I overheard John Carver talking with some men on the street, but I wasn’t spying. I didn’t act like I heard him, for fear he’d be upset.” He took a deep breath and dropped his voice to a whisper. “The best news is that some English merchants may lend us money for the trip!”
“Are you speaking truth or jest, son?” Father sharply asked.
“Truth,” John boldly stated. “John Carver said that if we agree to repay the English merchants with fish and furs and lumber from the New World, the merchants will lend us money to hire a ship, a crew, and supplies enough to take us to America.”
“What about King James?” Sarah looked frightened. “He will never let us go.”
“John Carver said the king will be more than happy to give permission. That way we will be farther away from him than ever, and he won’t be troubled by us!”
Father laughed, and Mother joined in. Even Sarah smiled a bit.
“What will we do, Father?” John asked. “Will our family go to America?”
Father and Mother exchanged a look, and Sarah’s face grew even more pale.
“We will listen to the advice of our leaders and pray for God’s wisdom. Then your mother and I will decide,” Father said firmly. “You and Sarah can help by praying for all of our families as we make this decision.”
The news John had overheard soon ran through Leiden. John Carver and the other leaders urged their followers to leave. Yet when the final vote was taken, less than half wanted to leave Holland immediately. John and Sarah’s parents were among those who had decided to leave. To their great disappointment, Pastor John Robinson quietly said he would stay behind.
“I will come later,” he promised those who planned to sail. “For now, I must remain with the part of my flock who are not going to America at this time.” Sadness over the coming separation lined his kind face. “Pray that it will not be long.”
As they left the meeting, Sarah was very quiet. John dropped back next to her and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
She looked up at him, and a tear slid down her freckled cheek. “I’m just thinking of all the friends we’ll have to leave behind. There’s good Pastor Robinson and the families who are staying here. Then there are my Dutch friends like Gretchen. No one our age is leaving for America.”
“Would you rather we stayed behind and watched Mother and Father leave on the ship?” John asked. “Our friends who are staying won’t see their parents for at least a year, probably longer.”
“No,” Sarah admitted. She sighed. “Leaving people you love is hard to do.”
“Yes, it is,” agreed Mother, turning to join their conversation. “But we won’t be leaving for weeks, maybe even months. There are many arrangements to make. Why, we don’t even have a ship to sail on yet. You and I will be extra busy packing things for our trip, Sarah, but you can invite Gretchen to visit us while we work as often as her parents will allow.”
For the first time since they’d left the meeting, a faint smile crossed Sarah’s face.
As the weeks passed, John realized the truth of Mother’s words. Nothing was happening, or so it seemed. Dutch and English companies offered to finance the trip, but only if the travelers worked for them like slaves. The only good thing that happened took place in England. When King James heard about the proposed trip and that the group expected to support itself by fishing, he supposedly said, “So God have my soul! ‘Tis an honest trade! It was the apostles’ own calling.”
“Good news,” Father finally announced one evening as he arrived home from work. “A man named Thomas Weston says that seventy men called ‘Adventurers’ are ready and waiting to supply money for the ships, crew, and supplies. Of course, there are certain conditions.”
“Is the offer any better than the earlier ones?” Mother asked. For once, John was able to bite his tongue and stand quietly to one side. He wanted to hear what his father had to say, and he knew that if he interrupted he might be sent out of the room.
“We’ll work for the investors for seven years,” Father said. “That’s not good, but it’s the best offer we’ve had, and our leaders don’t think we’ll get one that’s better.” Father sighed. “We not only need money to charter a ship to take us from England to America, with crew and supplies enough for many weeks, but we must also purchase a ship to carry us from Holland to Southampton. Both ships will cross the Atlantic once we meet in England.”
The Adventurers’ offer created a lot of debate among those who would be traveling. John sometimes felt like he would burst with impatience. Why must everything take so long? Why couldn’t people see how important it was to leave Holland? He listened to the ringing words of William Bradford.
“Great difficulties always go with great and honorable actions. They must be faced with courage. Granted, the dangers are great. They are not desperate. The difficulties will be many, but some of the things we fear may never come to pass! Others can be prevented by using wisdom. Through the help of God and patience, we can bear them or overcome them.
“We should neither make attempts that are rash nor undertake things lightly or out of curiosity and hope for gain. Our reasons are good and honorable. We have every right to expect the blessing of God.”
John squirmed uncomfortably when William Bradford spoke of curiosity, but his heart raced. Would he one day be a man like this? Or would he be like Father—quieter, but equally determined to take his family to a place that offered freedom and the chance to prosper?
A secret prayer slipped from John’s heart. Make me strong. There will be much to do. I know You will go with us to America. He longed with all his excited young heart to add And please, make it soon but decided against it. God might not think it polite for a twelve-year-old boy to tell Him to hurry.
In spite of John’s unfinished prayer, the “soon” he longed for came before he expected it. The very next day, exciting news reached Leiden. A sixty-ton ship named the Speedwell had been bought and was already on her way!
CHAPTER 4
Only the Brave
The Speedwell will carry us to England,” John told Sarah for at least the fiftieth time. “Even now the Mayflower is being loaded with supplies and getting ready to meet us at Southampton. Just think. Soon we will be on our way.” He searched her face for the excitement that flamed higher and higher inside him.
Sarah didn’t answer. Neither did she catch fire from his promise. “If only things had been better here.” She looked at he
r brother curiously. “Aren’t you going to miss Holland at all? What about your friend Hans? And aren’t you even a little bit afraid?”
“Of course.” John remembered Mother’s words about dealing gently with Sarah. “It’s really scary knowing we’re going so far away. I’ll miss my races with Hans. I’ll miss the young men who have married Dutch girls and won’t be going with us, and those who are too old or sick to sail. It will be hard to be separated for even a little while from friends who are our own age.”
He patted Sarah’s hand. “After we get to the New World and build a colony, others will come. You’ll see.”
“I suppose,” Sarah grumbled. “But I’d much rather stay here.” Her face brightened. “At least this afternoon I’ll be able to work with Gretchen.”
Shortly after the noon meal, a knock sounded at the door, and Sarah opened it to greet her friend. As energetic as she was tiny, Gretchen’s bubbly personality filled the kitchen where she joined Sarah and Mother in their work.
Sarah looked enviously at Gretchen’s bright blue dress. Unlike Sarah’s people, Dutch children dressed in beautiful colors, and Sarah sometimes wondered what it would be like to wear something other than drab browns and blacks.
“It must be so exciting for you,” Gretchen enthused as she salted pork and got it ready for drying. “I wish my family would do something so adventurous.”
“You should get together with my brother, John,” Sarah said. “All he can talk about are the adventures we’re going to have. But what about the dangers?”
“That’s true,” Gretchen admitted. “I’ve heard stories about sickness and storms at sea that would curl your hair.”
“Girls, girls,” Mother interrupted. “Let’s not get carried away by wild tales. We have work to do.”
The two friends turned back to their tasks, but Sarah grew sad as she thought of leaving her friend.
American Dream Page 2
