Abigail added, “When Nathanial comes home from his voyage in a few days I will ask him if he’s heard any truth to Matthew’s words about Sam Bellamy being a pirate.”
Maria’s face paled again at the idea of Sam as a pirate, and she suddenly felt nauseous. She felt her stomach tighten as it had throughout the previous night. It felt so tight that she dropped her spoon.
Abigail jumped up and held her around the shoulders. “Maria, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure. It’s too early for the child to come, but it feels like I’m in my travail.”
“Do the pains stop and then repeat?”
“No, I don’t think so. I just feel this tightening every so often.”
Abigail went over to a small box high on a shelf in the corner of the kitchen. “Here is something Minda gave to me when I was feeling unwell and had great pain in my back.”
Maria watched from the corner of her eye as Abigail opened the box on the table. “What is that?”
Abigail opened a leather pouch from inside the box. “Minda told me to be very careful with this medicine. It’s a special mix of herbs and roots. It worked to calm me down and it took some of my pain away.”
“Do you think that I’ll have need of it?”
Abigail cautioned her, “You may not need it, but if it be, then you only need a pinch boiled in a small amount of water. After a few minutes, sip only the liquid.” Abigail closed the small box. “You must be sure to tell me when you have another tightening and we’ll note the times with the hourglass.” She put the box back on the shelf and took the hourglass down, placing the timepiece near the hearth.
Maria saw Hestor walk into the house through the back door. She greeted her with, “Good morrow, Hestor.”
Mumbling under her breath, she responded, “Good morn, Miss.”
Maria watched Hestor work in the kitchen until she’d finished her breakfast. She then went upstairs to sort through her weaving supplies.
When Maria was out of sight, Hestor spoke to Abigail, “Mind you, Ma’am, I don’t think it be a good idea to have that girl with you. Given her condition and all.”
“Oh Hestor, don’t worry about me. Things will prove fine.”
Hestor added, “I heard her singin’ and talkin’ to no one when she was here last. Don’t it seem strange to you?”
“No, it’s just her way.”
“Well, I don’t like it, I think she’s tetched in the head and ripe for evil to take over.”
Abigail answered Hestor’s rude words with firm politeness, “I must ask you to stop talking about that poor sweet girl. You will keep your opinions to yourself. She has enough problems for now.”
To Abigail’s relief, Hestor left early with no further comments.
For Maria the morning hours passed with no recurring pain. She was happy to spend time with Abigail, helping her with whatever was needed.
EASTHAM
When Matthew arrived home his Mother was laying out the clothes to dry in the sunny but cool autumn air. He gave a loud call, “Mother!”
Mrs. Ellis turned to wave back.
As the wagon pulled past her, she coyly said, “So I see you finally came home. This time I hope you’ll stay a little longer?”
Matthew smiled and drove on into the barn.
She shook her head and whispered to herself, “That boy has a mind of his own. When he sets to do something, he certainly does it.” She smiled with pride for her only son. Oh how she’d missed his boyish presence while he was gone to sea. Today she was happy to see him again. She turned towards the barn and watched him walk closer to her.
After hugging his mother, Matthew picked up the laundry basket and escorted her into the house. “I have so much to tell you, Mother, I don’t know where to begin.”
She patted her son’s back and said, “It’s good to have you home again. We can talk forever if you like. But first, you must eat.”
Mr. Ellis returned home within the hour of Matthew’s arrival. Over a hearty late breakfast, the young man told his parents of his adventures with the pirates, and his rescue of Maria.
His mother finally asked, “And how is your friend, Maria Hallett? I have not seen her in almost a month. I was wondering if she ever finished the linen cloth that I asked her to weave for me.”
“I’m afraid, Mother, that Maria has gone and landed herself in a difficult set of circumstances.”
Mr. Ellis looked curious. “What do you mean? Come to mind, I haven’t seen that drunken old father of hers for a while either.”
Mrs. Ellis began to clean away the trencher from the middle of the table. “I hope it has nothing to do with the gossip about her being with child.”
Matthew grew silent.
Mrs. Ellis sat down. “Is it true, Matthew? Is it?”
“I’m afraid the rumors are correct, Mother, and I fear for her very survival. She seems to be close to birth and has no one but an older woman from the North Parish of Harwich, the old Indian midwife, Minda, and me to help her.”
His mother wanted to help the poor girl and offered some information. “A few days ago, Minda came here to ask if we had seen Maria. I told her I didn’t know where she was.”
Matthew unwavering in his tone, said, “Thank you, Mother. Tomorrow I’ll to try to find Minda and tell her about Maria. She needs to know.”
His mother cautioned him. “You must be careful when you travel through the Indian Territory.”
“Don’t worry, I have been on their trails with Maria when we were small. Minda showed the two of us the secrets of their forest. She’s my friend.”
NORTH HARWICH
Throughout the day, Abigail kept reassuring her young friend that her birthing would be normal. She knew several women who would come to be with her, when her travail began. And after the child was born, Maria would also enjoy the usual ‘lying in’ for several weeks; during which time she would be taken care of, as was the custom.
By mid-day, the two sat for a cider and dried fruit. When near finished, Abigail presented Maria with the gift of a small chest filled with the child linens from Nathanial’s children. The oak chest was lined with cedar.
“It’s beautiful,” Maria said, as she ran her slim fingers over the decorative scrolls that were carved onto the surfaces of the wood. She paused over a large letter D that flowed in script across its lid.
With a twinkle in her eye, Abigail replied, “Let me show you something very interesting.”
Maria watched in amazement as Abigail lifted the chest to the table, took out the linens and placed her fingertips on a half moon shape that was carved into the floor of the chest. She carefully pulled back on the wood and the floor of the chest slid away and out the front of the chest, revealing a two-inch space beneath it. “For secret items,” Abigail smiled.
“Thank you so much, Abigail. I will treasure it forever. You’re my best friend.”
Abigail went over to her desk in the parlor. “I have one more gift for you.”
She returned with three coins and handed them to Maria. “Here, take these and keep them in this secret compartment. You may need something extra one day.”
”You are a true friend, Abigail.” Maria gave her a hug.
Finding an old receipt from Nathanial’s affairs in the firebox, Abigail folded the paper around the coins and tied it with string. “This will keep the coins quiet so no one but you will ever know they are in there.”
Maria placed the little package at the bottom, slid the thin piece of wood back into place and replaced the linens. Closing the chest, she thought of how fortunate she was today.
***
Settling into their evening meal the two women heard a knock on the door.
“Well, my stars, who could that be?” The older woman stood and peered out the window. “People seem to visit me at such late hours.”
Ezra, the town constable, was standing outside.
She opened the door. “Come in, Ezra.”
“Sorry to trou
ble you, Abigail, at such a late hour, but I have news of Nathanial.”
“What is your news? Tell me now.”
The constable greeted Maria with a nod and continued, “It seems that Nathanial took sick on board his ship traveling from Antigua. They put into harbor at Barnstable and he has taken up residence at the home of Captain J. Hicks where he will remain until he is able to travel home.”
Abigail sat down on the bench next to Maria. “I must go to him. Ezra, I know of this Captain Hicks. I’ll be on the first packet to Barnstable in the morning.”
“Yes Ma’am. I’ll come by and take you to the landing, if you would like,” offered Ezra.
“Thank you. Now get on with you so I can ready myself to leave,” she said, pushing him out the door.
Abigail looked straight at Maria. “My child, I’ll have to leave you for a while, but I know you’ll be fine. I’ll leave word with Hestor to come by and check on you. There are plenty of supplies to keep you warm, fed and comfortable. You know where the medicine is, if you need it…although I do not think you will.”
“Of course, Abigail, don’t worry about me, I’ll be able to take care of things. You need to go to Nathaniel.”
Abigail hustled towards her bedroom. “I have so many things to get together; I seem to have lost my appetite. I might be out later for a cup of cider to warm myself before bed.”
Left alone in the kitchen, Maria stored what food was left from their dinner and cleaned up as well as she could. She thought it best that she retire early, to leave Abigail alone to pack her things.
As she lay upstairs in bed, waiting for sleep to come, she could hear Abigail moving about downstairs late into the night. Early the next morning, Saturday, November 2, the temperature dropped to near freezing. The women said their goodbyes. As Maria watched Abigail leave, she prayed that she would not feel any tightening pains in her stomach–at least not until her friend returned.
26
November 4, 1715
NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD
MARIA STRUGGLED TO KEEP HERSELF WARM. She longed for Sam as November’s chill tightened its icy grip over Cape Cod. Still alone on the third day of Abigail’s absence, Maria waited for her friend’s return. The young girl pulled her shawl around her shoulders and hummed a lullaby for comfort. She prayed to her mother…how I miss you and your gentle words.
Her taut skin, stretched to its limit across her stomach, could not be eased, even after massaging it with circular patterns. Maria swept the floor and scattered new sand on top of the rough-cut planks.
Wood was needed for the evening fire, so she ventured outdoors only to be pummeled by sleet that beat against the wooden shingles, and a bitter wind that slapped its fury across her face. It reminded her of her father’s harsh words. She hurried back inside.
Desperate for a distraction, Maria carefully climbed the narrow enclosed steps to the bedroom, steadying herself by holding onto its sidewalls. In the gray light she sorted through the childbed linens Abigail had found in the attic. She wished Sam could hold these tiny cloths now meant for their coming newborn.
A white linen bunting fell to the floor. As she bent over to pick it up, Maria’s stomach stiffened. “Be calm,” she cautioned herself. “It’s not time. It’s only my eighth month.”
Her face grew pale and she felt faint. A quick breath cleared her head as she returned to the warm kitchen to stoke the fire in the hearth. With the heft of a length of firewood, the pain returned with the same force as before. She reached for the hourglass above the hearth and set it on the table. After the sand fell three quarters of the way through the hour, her stomach grew tight again.
She thought it best to stay near the hearth and hope the cramps would stop. The wind and icy rain from the storm were the only sounds filling the chilly house as the glass bulb sifted its sand twice more. Another tightening repeated, but Maria decided it was still too irregular for a pattern. When her stomach relaxed, she began her evening meal and whispered a thank you to Hestor for the stew that had been prepared the prior day.
As the night grew darker, Maria finished her supper. Another log was added to the fire; its yellow flames soon lit the small room. She yearned for Sam to be by her side.
Gathering her skirts and the hourglass, she climbed the stairs to retire for the evening. The cold air hung heavy throughout the upper room. Maria’s kneecaps shook as the chilly air penetrated her body. She left her skirts on and tied a shawl around her head and shoulders. With the hourglass on the floor beside the bed, she nestled her swollen body inside the blankets. Closing her eyes, thoughts of Sam’s embrace slowly warmed her.
***
The pains came back after midnight, Maria rolled onto her side, trying to comfort herself. Unsuccessful, she decided to look for Minda’s medicinal potion downstairs. Heavy with child and clumsy in manner, she slowly rose from her bed and crept down the steep stairs to find the Indians’ potent leaves. She knew it was too early for the birth; maybe the herbs would ease her anxiety.
She reached for the medicine box on the high shelf. Opening the small pouch inside, Maria measured two pinches of herbs into the bottom of a large tankard to make her brew. The fire burned hot as it boiled the watery contents of the black kettle that hung on an iron pole inside the hearth. Swiftly, she poured the steamy liquid on top of the strange smelling mix, waited a few minutes, then strained it through a piece of linen and into a bottle with a glass stopper.
After taking two sips of the pungent liquid, she resolutely climbed back up the stairs, with potion in hand, confident that she would now sleep.
Restless, Maria tossed and turned. She dreamt of horrible images; creatures clawing at her body; her hands and feet frozen in ice; her back and legs covered in a sticky liquid. As she slowly began to waken from her nightmare, she held her eyes closed for fear that her dream was real. Finally, she cautiously pushed her hand over the bed linens. They felt cold and wet. Her fingers moved up and down, sliding across the icy bedding.
A deep, searing pain rippled across her stomach, and her eyes flashed open. The murky morning light that filtered into the freezing room revealed that the warm nest she had been lying upon had indeed become wet and frozen. She threw the bedcovers aside and looked down between her legs. Her body shook in horror as she realized her water had broken during the night. Her travail had begun.
Maria lay in the damp, clammy bed trying to capture her thoughts. The low temperatures had hardened her skirts and shift, making each movement almost impossible. She scrambled to get off the bed, all the while fighting to rid her body of the frozen clothes. At last, she stood naked, clutching her stomach. She leaned against the wall shaking, “Please, no...not now,” she cried. “I can’t do this by myself.”
As she pulled two dry shifts on for warmth, her body contracted again. When she was able to breathe normally, Maria glanced towards her bed and saw the glass bottle filled with the dark liquid on the floor. Abigail’s warnings of its power cautioned her to drink from it. Ignoring her misgivings, she took the glass bottle, along with the hourglass, and wrapped them in a shift. After tying the material into a sling around her neck to keep her hands free, she returned to the kitchen to be closer to the fire.
Midway down the steps, a sharp spasm knocked her off balance, and she landed hard on the fourth plank. Her hands gripped the wooden board while she waited for the pain to pass. While the wind roared outside, a piercing draft of air dropped from the upstairs against her back, sending her body into more violent shivers.
Maria stood and dragged her weakening body down the remaining stairs to finally set the fire that she so desperately needed. After placing the hourglass on the table and the medicine bottle on the bureau, she leaned into the hearth and pleaded, “Please, where is Hestor? Where are you Sam? I’m so frightened to be alone!”
Her hands shook as she worked the bellows to engage the fire. She waited for the next tightening but it did not come. Relieved, Maria leaned her head over the table and began t
o whimper like a small child, realizing no one was coming to help her. Sam was so far away, no amount of praying or wishing was going to help her this night.
Maria raised her head and decided that she must prepare to face her travail alone. With determination, she gathered old cloths, her knife, a pillow, extra blankets, pieces of string and the child linens. She placed them on the bureau in the borning room and rested on the small bed. Her travail returned with a savage force. She screamed, “Stop pushing. Stop it! Be strong.”
Her screams changed into cries for help. “I can’t stand the pain! Please, someone help me!”
She looked over to the glass bottle on the small chest of drawers. Dragging her body into the borning room, she lunged for the bottle. No longer caring about Minda’s cautions, Maria took a sip from it, then another and another. Soon she felt drowsy. Collapsing onto the small bed near the wall, she finally closed her eyes.
Within a short time her labor returned with even stronger urges to push. Maria tried to stand but the contractions folded her body forward and she fell back onto the bed. She fought to right herself, then tried to stimulate the child to come faster. She pulled her body around the room by holding onto the walls with her hands. Her heart pounded and her body grew heavy with sweat. Her stomach felt as if it would explode and her lower body split open. She forced her legs to keep walking. With each turn around the enclosed space, Maria stopped and sipped more of the potent drug until it was all gone.
When the pains became stronger and closer together, the natural processes of childbirth took control of her body and mind. Her screams of agony mingled with the screeching wind and icy rain smashing into the window. As the storm swirled around Abigail’s house and the tiny village’s deserted cart-ways, Maria’s cries went unheard.
27
Present Day – July 3
BREWSTER – CAPE COD
The Old Cape House Page 11