The Old Cape House

by Barbara Eppich Struna

  She could hear Matthew in the barn preparing the wagon. As he brought the wagon closer to the house, Maria relieved herself in the jar under her bed instead of going outside one more time before they left. Lifting her skirts, she looked down and noticed she wore no shoes or stockings. She giggled to herself and thought that being with child must make women do silly things. She scooped up the basket that held her apron and placed Abigail’s new woven cloth inside, along with biscuits wrapped in a piece of cotton plus her shoes and stockings. As she grabbed her cap hanging by the door, Maria glanced over at her unmade bed and promised herself that she would empty the bed jar when she got home.

  15

  Early summer 1715

  NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD

  MATTHEW HELPED MARIA INTO THE WAGON. As he touched her hand, he looked at her face and thought how beautiful she was, there was such a glow about her. “Be careful now,” he said.

  Maria joined Minda on the wagon’s worn wooden seat and placed her basket in the back. “We will. And thank you, Matthew, for hitching up ‘Old Brother’. See you in a few days.”

  He stepped away from the wagon as Minda gave a clicking sound and flipped the leather reins up and across the horse’s back. Old Brother trotted off down the path that led to the dirt cart-way.

  The rough old wagon cradled them as they passed through familiar landscapes. When they approached the deforested land of the King’s Highway, Minda pulled back on the reins to stop Old Brother. “So many fine-looking trees are gone Maria. I cannot understand why your people take not only our lands but our forests too. We are left with so little. My heart weeps for what will become of us and your children yet to be.”

  Maria had no words of consolation. There was nothing either one of them could do.

  The landscape looked so barren to Minda, she closed her thoughts about something she could not change and looked over at the young Maria. “You seem better, not so nervous. I think that you have decided to become a mother.”

  Maria held her head down, looked sideways towards Minda, smiled and nodded yes. The old woman covered Maria’s hands with her own, gently squeezing them as a comfortable silence fell over the two friends.

  They traveled for hours before they came to the Namaskaket lands and finally to the North Parish of Harwich. They could see Abigail from the road as they came over the crest of the hill; she was sitting under a large oak tree next to the house. Her new home was nearly finished with only trim remaining. Abigail spotted the wagon and waved at them with a weak sway of her hand.

  Minda took notice of Abigail’s demeanor and hoped she was feeling better.

  A widow from Yarmouth, Abigail was forty-two years old and enjoyed being the second wife of fifty-three-year old Nathanial Doane. When Nathaniel surprised his bride with plans for a new dwelling farther east, she didn’t mind the move. She looked contentedly around her property and thought it was advantageous that Nathaniel had inherited this land in the Namaskaket area from his father, one of the ‘Purchasers’ or ‘Old Comers’. The happy bride felt comforted with the thought of how endearing Nathaniel was because he was so worried about her health. Yes, it was bothersome to her that her stamina and well-being was causing some concern, but Nathaniel reassured Abigail that his wedding gift of a new dwelling would cheer her up and be good for her. She sat in front of her promised new house, enjoying the shade from the lone tree above her head, waiting for her guests to arrive.

  The two travelers pulled alongside the large tree. Minda called out, “I am glad you are getting fresh air, Abigail, my friend.”

  Maria jumped out of the wagon, straightened her skirts and greeted Abigail with a hug. “Wait till you see what I’ve brought you. I know you’ll like it.” She lifted her things out of the wagon just as Jacob took Old Brother into the barn for oats, water and a night of rest.

  Abigail looked tired but eager to visit with her friends and reached out to both of them. Laughing, with arms around one another, they walked into the house.

  The raised threshold of the simple full cape or ‘double’ house greeted them; it led to a narrow staircase that ascended upstairs. Abigail, being first inside, moved to the right and into the kitchen. Maria looked at the two windows that faced front and then glanced back at the large center chimney fireplace. She ran her hand over the thick smooth wood of the long table and placed her basket next to a small jar of spring flowers. Two long benches ran along each side of the table, and shelves opposite the hearth held cooking utensils, bowls, spices and various condiments. She thought to herself that when Sam returns, he had promised her riches, and this is the kind of house that she would like.

  Minda peered into the borning room in the rear of the kitchen. It was small but adequate for birthing and for anyone who might become sick. She nodded her approval, thinking it was good to be so close to the kitchen in times of tending.

  Abigail gestured to the two travelers. “Come, let me show you the rest of my house.”

  Minda placed her arm around Abigail and rubbed her back. “Your house is good.”

  On the other side of Abigail’s kitchen was the parlor, where the single center chimney opened to another large hearth. Maria admired two winged chairs and a small folding table, where guests would be entertained. To the rear of the parlor was the master bedroom for Abigail and Nathanial. Following Abigail into the room, she stared at a large four-poster bed with soft, green velvet curtains tied back around each post. “What beautiful fabric, Abigail.” Maria stroked the luxurious curtains.

  “Aren’t they wonderful?” Abigail asked. “They keep Nathaniel and I warm from drafts.” Abigail smiled as she touched the green material. “I chose them for their color; when I wake up in the morning I feel as if I’m sleeping outside under the trees.”

  As the two friends trailed behind their gracious hostess, Abigail apologized for the sparse furnishings in the other rooms. Maria didn’t mind; she thought the house was cozy. She liked the simple jars of water holding little flowers that Abigail had placed around the rooms; it was so welcoming.

  “Most of my treasures have not yet arrived from Boston,” Abigail added, beaming with pride. She walked over to the stairway and pointed upstairs, “That’s where you will be spending the night. Go on up, don’t mind me.”

  Abigail settled herself on the bench in the kitchen to catch her breath. Smelling the little bouquet of flowers on the table she called out to her friends, “I’m a little tired. Hestor will soon be here to fix dinner for us.”

  There were two small rooms upstairs; one on the right was washed a soft green and the room on the left had a light blue tint on its walls. Maria favored the blue room with its little bed covered in a matching blue and white coverlet. Before sitting, she checked under the bedding and noticed how it was tied. “Very strong and tight,” she said, giving her approval. She sat down and placed her hands on either side of her body. Bouncing up and down, she called out, “Oh this will do.” She jumped up and walked across to the other room. “Minda, how’s your bed?”

  The green room was in disarray.

  “Minda! “Where are you?”

  Over by the window, she saw that Minda had placed blankets on the floor between the bed and the wall under the window. She was lying on top of them.

  “I am making sure it is right, so I can sleep tonight.” Minda smoothed the pretty green quilt with her hand, shaping it into a nest. Then, as if this was normal behavior for her to be on the floor, she looked at Maria and asked, “Shall we go find Abigail? I am sure she needs help.”

  Maria agreed, ignoring her dear friend’s strange Indian ways, following her down the steep steps into the kitchen.

  Hestor had already arrived with a simple stew she’d cooked overnight at her house and was stirring it over the fire in the kitchen hearth. Nathanial had hired Hestor, a local woman, whose family had encountered difficult times recently. He knew she needed extra money and would help Abigail with the cooking and various chores around the house. A portly, round faced
woman, Hestor spoke few words, but always did what she was told. Although the housekeeper was not much of a companion to Abigail, Nathanial thought it useful to have someone look after his wife while he was away at sea. As the two women entered the kitchen Abigail introduced them.

  Hestor looked up from her stirring, gave them a look up and down, rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Yes, Mum”. She returned to her chores without any other acknowledgment of the guests.

  Minda felt uneasy with this cold reception and took the blame to herself. It had happened before, many times, as she traveled to places outside her Nauset home. The memories of King Phillip’s War, four decades ago, still echoed with anger and distrust of the Indians who lived within the colonies.

  Abigail sensed the tension. She thanked Hestor and instructed her to leave. “We’ll be fine for tonight. See you tomorrow.”

  Hestor answered, “Yes, Mum.” Gathering her things together, she muttered something about ‘those savages’ and slammed the rear door of the house.

  Maria got up from the bench and looked out the window to see Hestor’s large behind, covered with layers of skirts, swaying from side to side as she walked away. “Good riddance. How can you stand her Abigail? Doesn’t she ever smile? I hope her stew is better than her manners.” Maria gave the steaming kettle a quick stir and the hearty smells drifted into her nose. “Well, I must admit, it smells good.”

  ***

  Within the hour, the three friends sat down to a satisfying dinner of meat stew laced with carrots, potatoes and onions. They cleaned their bowls with fresh bread. As it was getting dark, apple cider was heated over the fire and the women enjoyed their beverages along with sweet treats of maple sugar candy. Abigail had made them from the syrup that was harvested, several months prior, on their property. A warm rosy color glowed on Abigail’s face from the potent cider and warm hearth. She wiped her brow with a handkerchief and asked, “Now, Maria, where is my cloth?”

  Maria blushed next. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to show you.” She stood to get her basket from off the floor where she had placed it before dinner. All eyes were focused on Maria as she unfolded the beautiful cloth. Its intricate woven patterns of blues and yellows were magnificent.

  Abigail touched the soft linen, “I love it, Maria. When my new tea table arrives this will complement its surface. I’ll be the envy of the whole Massachusetts Bay Colony.”

  As Maria’s teacher of weaving, Minda was very proud of her student and the well-made cloth.

  Pleased with it herself, Maria put her basket back on the floor. “Now I have news to tell you. But you must hear me out until I’m finished and then tell no one.” She sat down opposite Abigail and looked over at Minda for approval.

  Minda agreed with a silent nod of her head.

  Maria took a sip of cider, then a deep breath, and began telling Abigail about Sam, her talk with Minda on the beach, her questions, and finally her decision to have Sam’s child.

  Abigail sat quiet and listened. “You’ve delivered me news that is almost too much to grasp tonight.” She folded her hands on the table and looked straight at Maria. “Do you trust this Sam to come back for you?”

  Maria replied with a sparkle in her eyes, “Yes, I trust him. I trusted him right away. There was something about him and I knew he was sincere.”

  Abigail cupped Maria’s hand with hers, searching for the right words. After several seconds, she spoke, “It seems that you love this Sam.”

  “Yes, I do,” Maria replied.

  “What if he does not return to you? Are you prepared to live with the consequences of your decision? You must realize many people like Hestor live within the colony. They are narrow-minded and blindly follow the laws of the church.”

  “What do you mean?” Maria asked.

  “Sometimes the good people of our community forget that we are all trying to survive as God’s family in this new land,” Abigail explained. “They become unforgiving towards people who don’t follow the rules, even if they are unfair rules. They often forget they need to keep love in their hearts for one another.”

  Abigail took a sip of the strong cider. “Many times, because people’s own lives become difficult to live, they blame bad things that happen to them on the evil of the devil. Anyone they do not approve of or dislike, becomes, in their minds, servants of the devil.” Abigail shook her head in disgust. “I’ve often thought this misguided reasoning takes the blame away from their own mistakes and problems.” She touched Maria’s cheek. “You must remain strong and take very good care of yourself until your Sam returns. Attend church as usual and do not call attention to yourself. Remember that Minda and I will be here for you.”

  The old PowWah placed her fingers over Maria and Abigail’s joined hands. The three friends were different in age, race, and social stature, but it did not matter, for they found that another bond was forming among them.

  ***

  When Maria retired, the bed felt softer than hers at home, and the room smelled fresh. Happy that Abigail knew about the child, and pleased that she had some extra shillings to take home from the sale of her cloth, sleep came quickly to Maria that night. She dreamt of Sam holding her in his arms and speaking words of promise to her, “I will return for you, I love you!”

  As dawn came, she could still feel Sam’s kisses and heard a sweet, delightful song being sung close by. She felt warm and safe as the melodic sounds lulled her; she kept her eyes closed, not wanting to wake up. Warm tender feelings filled her thoughts, shifting between visions of Sam to her room, and then back to Sam again. In a dream-like state she called out his name, but there was no answer.

  Looking around the empty room she realized it was just a dream, but she could still hear the sweet sounds surrounding her. Peering through the window, Maria saw a tree rustle in the wind with little birds swaying on its branches, singing their morning song. It sounded like the music from her dream; everything had seemed so real, Sam’s touch, his words. Disappointed, she rubbed her eyes, surrendering to reality. Turning back the covers, Maria rose from her bed and walked over to the window. Old Brother was tied to the fence and the wagon was ready for the trip back to Eastham.

  It is another day closer to when Sam comes home to me, she thought. Then with a deep sigh …it’s also time to return to Father.

  Gathering up her few possessions that lay around the room, Maria went down the stairs and into the kitchen just in time to see Hestor’s cap disappear beneath the kitchen floor. Maria looked up to see Abigail entering from the back door. “Good morrow, Abigail.” She pointed to the cavernous hole in the floor. “What’s that? I didn’t notice that opening before.”

  “My new root cellar,” Abigail replied. “Nathanial thought it would be convenient for storing our supplies in the house. When the weather is cold, I will have no need to go outside for anything. I keep the rug over it to hide the hinges, lest I trip.”

  Maria peered down into the hole and saw flat stone steps leading into a small room. She couldn’t see anything else from up above because Hestor’s behind filled up the whole space. She caught glimpses of wooden shelves that had been built on the sides of the round cellar as Hestor ascended the steps.

  “Out of my way girl,” Hestor called out from below.

  Maria stepped back as Hestor lumbered up the flat steps carrying last season’s canned peaches into the kitchen. Maria twisted her head, trying to look further into the underground room.

  Hestor turned to face the young girl. “If you ask me, it was mighty wasteful to build those steps with such fancy stone pieces when wood is better and more practical.” She muttered loud enough for Abigail to hear her opinion.

  Abigail, who usually ignored Hestor’s comments, shrugged her shoulders. She looked at Maria and smiled in resignation at the fact that Hestor always complained about something and felt she knew everything. Abigail motioned to Maria. “Let’s sit outside with our cider while breakfast is prepared. Minda is already awake and wandering in my
yard for any interesting herbs.”

  Trying to stay out of Hestor’s way, Maria did as she was told and joined Abigail on the bench in the back of the house. “It has been so pleasant here, visiting with you.”

  “Well, it’s too short of a visit for me.” Abigail smiled at Maria. “I will count the days to the next time my two friends visit me from Eastham.” She drank her cider and watched the early morning breeze ruffle through the high oak leaves above her head.

  Maria, also enjoying the fine morning, could not stop daydreaming of Sam and the new life growing inside her.

  ***

  They arrived in Eastham a little after sunset, when it was still in twilight. Maria’s father was not yet home from Barnstable. Matthew was waiting on the bench.

  Maria waved and called out, “Hello there, Matthew.”

  He placed his tankard on the bench and rose to meet the wagon. While tying Old Brother to the post, he watched Maria’s every move. “Did you have a pleasant trip?”

  “Wonderful,” she answered. “Abigail’s new house is splendid, except for her housekeeper.”

  Matthew helped her out of the wagon, eager just to touch her.

  Maria laughed. “The woman never speaks a kind word, but surely delivers a fine stew.”

  He held her waist and looked straight into her eyes. “It’s good that you had an agreeable visit.” When he unloaded the weary traveler’s bags, Matthew looked back at Maria. “I’ll take care of Old Brother. Go on in and get some rest. We’ll talk another day.”

  Minda watched Matthew from across the other side of the wagon and thought what a good man Matthew is... too bad that Maria does not see him as he sees her.

  16