She stepped away from him and covered herself with the shawl. Embarrassed at her situation, she ignored his question. “Matthew, it’s good to see you. Where have you been?”
“Looking for adventure at sea, although I realize I might find a safer way to seek my fortune right here on land.”
“What do you mean?”
He began to collect some of her things, “Let’s not talk of it now, perhaps another time.”
Maria looked at the broken wheel. “I don’t know what I’m going to do!” She began putting some of her belongings into the pushcart.
Matthew stood and caught her by the shoulders. “Maria, we have been friends a long time. Please tell me what you’re doing out here, by yourself.”
Ashamed by everything and overwhelmed with despair, she began to cry on his waistcoat.
He cradled her in his arms and gently rubbed her back. “Maria, don’t cry. I’ll help you.” His love for her filled his heart again. His head swirled with words of…I love you…I love you Maria. But they stayed within. Like two lovers, they stood swaying in a locked embrace.
It had been an eternity since anyone had hugged Maria, and she didn’t want to let go of Matthew. She felt so safe in her dear friend’s arms.
Matthew missed her touch and wanted her close to him. “Maria, where are you going with this old cart?”
She wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m trying to get to Abigail’s.”
“Abigail’s? Do you realize how far that is?”
“I do!” she answered with a slight stubbornness in her voice. “I can’t go back to my house. Father wants nothing to do with me and my...child.”
“Where’s the father of this child?” Matthew asked, trying to get more information from her.
“He’s not here, but…. He’ll be back to take care of me. I just need to get to Abigail’s house. Will you help me?” She hoped that he would not refuse her, thinking of the many times Matthew had fulfilled her every request.
He looked at Maria, and then at the broken cart, and back to Maria. “Of course I’ll help you.” He smiled. “Go wait on that rock, and I’ll fetch my wagon and horse. Then I’ll take you to Abigail’s.” He picked up the rest of Maria’s things, along with his own bag, and carried them over to the edge of the pine grove. Then he dragged the broken cart from the pathway.
“Matthew, would you do me a favor?” Maria asked.
“What is it?”
“Would you please bring my spinning wheel from the attic? Father will still be asleep. I’m sure that he’ll not hear nor see you.”
“Yes, I’ll get it.”
“Matthew, could you find one more thing?”
He stopped and turned towards her. “Yes?”
“In the bottom of my chest of drawers is a box with a rose painted on it. Will you bring that too?”
He walked over to her, held her hand in his and reassured her. “I’m at your service!”
***
Matthew felt exhilarated as he ran. He had been eager to come home to see Maria and finally make his feelings known to her. He knew a life at sea was not for him, and right now, land beneath his feet was satisfying. He picked up his pace. His true feelings would have to wait, he decided. My Maria is in trouble and needs my help.
Many questions raced through his head as he raced home. Who is the father? I need to know why this man left her. I would never have left Maria, knowing she was with child. Maybe he didn’t know! He shook his head to clear his thoughts and concentrate on his footing as he pushed himself along the path. I’ll be there soon. I’m almost there. I love her.
24
Thursday Afternoon – October 31, 1715
EASTHAM – CAPE COD
IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF THE COLD MONTHS in the colonies. The air carried a chill but the sun felt warm on Maria’s shoulders as she waited on her stone seat for Matthew. She busied herself with folding and refolding the clothes in her bag. She cleaned her weaving tools. She straightened threads, yarns, and pieces of unfinished cloth. As she walked back and forth along the tree line, her thoughts turned to Abigail. She knew her friend would be surprised to see her but it didn’t matter. There would be a warm welcome for her and Matthew; that was Abigail’s way.
The sun’s path in the sky marked mid-afternoon. Maria grew nervous about the lateness in the day but remained hopeful that Matthew would come back for her before dark. She traced the initials on her mother’s bag, ‘S.A.M’. Sam, how I wish you were here.
A jingling horse bridle broke the quiet. Maria jumped up from her stone seat and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Matthew. He waved to her and she waved back, watching him guide the wagon closer.
After tying the reins to a handle on the wagon, he paused to stare at her. She was so beautiful. Her face was glowing. How could anyone leave her?
“Matthew! What’s wrong?”
“Forgive me. Shall we load everything into the wagon? I found the spinning wheel and the box.” He added with a laugh, “You were right about your father; he was still sleeping in the barn.”
Maria found her small box in the wagon. It was decorated with a beautiful rose painted on its top, near the right corner. “Thank you, Matthew.” She turned away from him and opened it a crack to check its contents, then pushed the decorative box under her clothes in the travel bag. “Shall we get started?”
Matthew helped her onto the wagon’s seat. He had placed a large blanket across the bench for warmth. As they rode, he noticed Maria holding her stomach. They had already traveled over eight miles and he wondered if she was all right. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine. The child is moving.”
As they got closer to Abigail’s, the sun disappeared behind grey clouds forming above them. Maria felt chilled and covered herself with part of the blanket. When they pulled away from a wooded area of dense trees, tiny snowflakes began to drift through the cold air.
Matthew looked over to his silent passenger. “Don’t worry. We’ll be at Abigail’s shortly.” He wanted to hold her hand, but instead he held steady on the reins, keeping the wagon straight on the old cart-way.
By the time they reached Abigail’s house, the sun had set; it was dusk and lightly snowing. Matthew had hoped to talk to Maria about what took place while he was at sea, but Maria seemed preoccupied.
***
Abigail was sitting down to her evening meal when she thought she heard the sound of a wagon approaching. She wondered who would be out this time of night? She peeked through the small window on the door, but darkness clouded her view. The unexpected arrival of a stranger frightened her, so she backed away; ready to grab the iron rod hanging in the hearth.
Maria stood next to Matthew as he knocked on the door.
Abigail called out, “Who is it?”
“Maria Hallett.”
“Come closer to the window so I can see your face,” Abigail ordered.
Maria positioned her face as close as she could to the little opening on the door. Abigail grabbed the Betty Lamp. “Maria, it IS you.” She lifted the heavy latch to let in her friend. “What are you doing here?”
As soon as Maria saw Abigail, she began to cry in relief and leaned into the comfort of her arms. “Father has forbidden me to stay in the house and wants nothing more to do with me.”
Matthew entered the house behind Maria.
“And who might you be?” Abigail took a stern look towards Matthew.
Maria pulled away from Abigail and wiped her tears. “This is Matthew Ellis, the dearest friend that anyone could have, besides you and Minda. He lives with his family next to our house.”
“Well, come in and close the door or all the warmth will be lost.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Matthew closed the door and took off his hat.
“Let me look at you, my dear,” Abigail said noticing the sizable stomach on Maria. “You are coming along as expected. Sit down, both of you. Please join me in dinner so we may talk.”
Matthew inquired if he wou
ld be allowed to bed his horse down in the barn for the night. Abigail agreed and he left, informing them that he would be back presently. The two women decided they should wait for Matthew before eating. During their short wait, Maria confided to Abigail that she had not told Matthew about Sam and she asked her not to speak of him to Matthew. Abigail agreed. And as Maria hoped, the kind old woman invited her to stay in the house for as long as was needed.
All three were hungry when Matthew joined the two women at the table. Maria spoke of how her father had discovered she was with child and then explained how angry he’d become.
Matthew listened in silence.
She relayed her futile attempt to walk the roads, pushing the old cart, and then her rescue by Matthew.
Finishing the last of the biscuits, the young man complimented Abigail. “Everything tasted wonderful, Abigail...thank you so much.”
“It’s my pleasure to serve such a kind man as you.”
She poured him more ale, usually reserved for her husband Nathanial, and asked, “Tell me about how you came to be walking on the road this morning.”
Matthew settled himself into his chair. “After being at sea for nigh six months I was heading home to Eastham. Our ship had landed at Boston Harbor, so my shipmate, Jonathan Quidley, and I, caught a packet to Barnstable, where he makes his home. We had the stench of the sea on us but we didn't care; it was home that mattered most to us.” He smiled at Maria and placed his open hand down on the table, nearer to hers. “As the boat traveled along the bay, I bought food for the two of us, for a few shillings, and we sat outside in the sea air. It was the least I could do for my friend who was going to put me up for the night.”
Maria inched her hand closer to his across the smooth wood.
“Upon arriving at his home, Jonathan’s mother washed my clothes and let me clean myself up. In exchange, I helped Jonathan fell a tree that had its roots exposed. We cut and stacked the wood, and added it to his family’s woodpile for winter. When my things were in order, I said my goodbyes and caught the packet out of Barnstable Harbor to Breakwater Landing, in the North Parish. From there I started walking home. It was a long journey, but I didn’t mind. He looked at Maria, then to Abigail. “It became a fortunate event that I saw Maria and was able to help her.” He reached out and gently held Maria’s hand.
Abigail asked him, “Tell me, did you happen to sail near the West Indies on your route?”
“Yes, we did, and I’m glad we made it home safe from there.” Matthew looked up towards the heavens in gratitude to the Lord.
“Did you come across a vessel commanded by my husband, Nathanial Doane? His ship is named the Voyager.”
“No, I don’t remember seeing that ship; but we did see pirates.”
“Pirates!” explained Abigail. “Tell us more.”
Matthew wiped his mouth, straightened his back and began his story. “It started out a fine day on our voyage home; the wind was at our backs. We had just loaded our cargo of indigo, rice, sugar, and 500-pounds sterling when we spotted them off our bow.”
Maria held her tightening belly and began to massage it with both hands.
Matthew continued, “Our Captain began yelling orders as he came up from his cabin. 'Break out the weapons. Be quick lads. We have no time!' ” Matthew took a drink. “It was my first encounter with real danger, and I was quite nervous but steadfast in my actions. I stood by the rail and watched them fast approaching. I stayed there far too long so one of my mates hit me on the back by my shoulder and ordered me, ‘Get below, if you're not ready to fight!’ ”
“What did you do?” Maria asked, her heart racing, fearful of the outcome.
“Fortunately, he knocked me out of my daze, upon which I grabbed a pistol from the arsenal.” Matthew leaned close over the table. “After all were ready, we stood our ground, poised with cannons facing the pirates, waiting, hoping they would not bother us. But before we could breathe easy, they were upon us. They came alongside and swung over to board us. We managed to get one shot of the cannon off but it did little damage to their craft.”
Matthew motioned for more ale. “A hard fight ensued but they were too much for us. They overpowered the crew and gathered us together, to one side of the deck, and made us kneel while the two captains talked below.”
He took a drink and leaned even further into the center of the sideboard. “It was strange. While I was kneeling and praying that they would have mercy on us, I overheard one pirate call another by the name of Bellamy! I thought to myself, I know that name. I’d heard it around Eastham before I left.”
Maria stared with wide eyes.
He looked over to Maria. “Remember, Maria, there was a Sam Bellamy staying at Smith’s Tavern? He said he was going off with Williams to salvage treasure.”
Maria was stunned. Her face turned pale and she felt sick. Sam was not a pirate. He couldn’t be!
Matthew saw Maria’s reaction and was pleased that his encounter with pirates seemed so interesting to her. “One poor soul, a Dutchman hired in the West Indies, tried to reach for a pistol that had been dropped and was hidden under a sail. Before he was able to get his hand on it, he was run through by one of them foul pirates standing near me.” The young storyteller took a deep breath. “After that, we all closed our eyes, prayed, and waited for our turn.”
Abigail could see that Maria was visibly upset. She took Maria’s hand and held it tight under the table.
Matthew asked, “Are you feeling well enough to hear the end of my story, Maria?”
She moved her free hand over her belly. “Go on, Matthew.”
“After a short time, I could hear footsteps on the deck,” he continued. “Opening my eyes just a crack, I saw the two captains together. The pirate captain by the name of Henry Jennings ordered the tall, black haired Bellamy to go with two other fellows and fetch the spoils. They took the 500-pound sterling, most of our food supplies and all of our weapons. With a wink in his eye, Jennings told Bellamy he could take anything else that he fancied. It seemed that Bellamy was the favorite of his captain. When all was loaded onto the pirate ship, to our amazement, they left us.”
Maria stood up from the bench and excused herself. She thanked Abigail for her hospitality, and Matthew for all his efforts to take care of her, and went up the stairs to her bed.
Matthew watched her exit, then asked Abigail, “I hope I didn’t frighten her with my tale? She looks quite ill.”
Abigail stood to clean the sideboard. “Don’t worry about Maria; she’s a very strong woman. She’ll be fine now that she’s here with me.” As she carried the dishes to the dry sink, Abigail turned to Matthew. “I must ask you, Matthew. What did your Captain do or say to that pirate Jennings?”
“From what the crew could figure, he convinced the old pirate that his ship was too small to be of any value and he would gladly give him anything he wanted as long as he spared him and his men. Jennings must have been in good favor that day, or he was just practical in his thinking. It was too much work to kill everyone and destroy the ship. The gods smiled upon us that day.” Matthew stood to stoke the fire in the hearth. “If it is agreeable to you, Abigail, may I bring in some wood for the night and check my horse in the barn?”
Abigail was grateful. “Of course, thank you, Matthew. I’m afraid that by the time you return I’ll be sound asleep, so I must say goodnight now. You may sleep in the borning room here off the kitchen.”
“Much obliged. Goodnight Abigail. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend to Maria.”
“And thank you, Matthew. I’m not sure what would have happened to her if you hadn’t come along when you did.”
He grabbed his hat and opened the door. “I’ll make sure the doors are latched. Good night.”
Friday, November 1, 1715
Matthew was up early; anxious to go home. By the time Abigail awoke, he already had the hearth warm and was preparing to leave.
“Please wait, Matthew, so I may fix you something to eat
before your journey home,” she coaxed.
He smiled as he grabbed his coat and hat. “I must be on my way. My mother will be worried. I told her nothing of what I was doing when I fetched the wagon, except to trust me and that I would be back shortly.”
“Maria is still sleeping; she’ll surely be sorry to have missed you.” Abigail insisted, “At least let me give you some bread and beef strips so you may eat them on your way.”
25
Friday, November 1, 1715
NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD
MARIA SAW MATTHEW THROUGH THE WHITE FROST that circled the small windowpanes in the upstairs bedroom. As his wagon pulled away she felt regret at not saying goodbye to him. Matthew was such a good friend. She knew she would not have been able to refrain from asking more questions about Sam; the thought of Sam as a pirate was frightening to her. Her child–and the fact that Sam would return to her someday–was more important than any other notions assaulting her mind.
Abigail called up the stairs. “Maria, are you awake?”
“I’ll be right down.” Abigail’s house was so comforting to her. She straightened the lovely blue coverlet across the cozy bed and threw a shawl over her shoulders. As she entered the warm kitchen, Maria feigned innocence. “Did Matthew leave?”
“Yes, I’m afraid he did.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” She sat down to a bowl of hot porridge. “I do hope that he’s careful on his trip home.” She fell silent.
Abigail could not help but notice that Maria appeared unsettled. She sat down at the sideboard across from her and extended her hand over the young girl’s arm. “Maria, are you all right?”
“Why yes, I’m fine, Abigail.”
“Do you want to talk about last night and the terrifying news of Sam?”
“Oh that? I’m sure that Matthew was mistaken about Sam. If you remember he was quite afraid when he met those dreadful pirates and he probably heard the wrong name being called out.” She continued eating her breakfast, “I know that when people get frightened their minds play tricks on them. I’m not worried about my Sam.”
The Old Cape House Page 10