This account is confirmed by Captain Reynolds’s briefer account in the ship’s log. However, his version is more circumstantial about later events. On September 4th, 1620, two days before Mayflower set sail for the New World after two aborted attempts to begin the voyage, Speedwell was at anchor alongside it in Plymouth harbor. Reynolds was in the aft cabin at six in the evening when the ship’s boy announced the arrival of a man on board carrying documents from the ship’s sponsor. Reynolds writes:
I commanded him to be brought to me, and when he came in to my quarters I beheld a dark man so tall that he stooped beneath the roof beams of the cabin. This indignity seemed to put him in an ill-humour, so I requested him to be seated and to tell me his business. When he had sat, he told me that he was now the true holder of this vessell and showed me letters patent establishing this title. At this I was much dismayed, for I had not been informed of such a change, but he paid no heed to my distress, saying that I must bustle about and prepare with all speed for our voyage to the New World. When I asked him who was to be the passengers on this voyage, for now all but two of those who had come from Leiden were gone into Mayflower, he sayd he would attend to that, and he asked to see those two that remained aboard.
Martha’s narrative now takes up the story:
Having little money to pay for an inn at Plymouth, my daughter Mercy and I had remained aboard, and shifted as best we might in the ’tween decks. It was a most noisome and damp situation, even in port, and the old beams did creak. Moreover we were much plagued with rats who contrived to come aboard in harbour. I had arranged our effects and some curtains so that we had some solace of privacy. At that time no one was aboard but us and some sailors, coarse, idle fellows to my eyes, and much given to strong drink and bawdry.
But two days after our coming into harbour and at about ten in the forenoon, there was some commotion, and Captain Reynolds did come down to the ’tween decks accompanied by a man, a certain Master Moreby. He was of middling age and very tall and thin. Though soberly dressed with all neatness, I and my daughter Mercy thought him most ill-favoured. He spoke to us insolently, as if we had no right to be there. I showed him my documents, which ensured my passage to the New World, either in Speedwell or Mayflower. But he sayd he had bought the vessell at auction, and he was the Master of Speedwell now and I had no rights. Yet, sayd he, with a strange kind of a smile which I did not like, he would suffer me to remain, and he assured me that there would be company for me on the voyage. When I asked him the nature of that company, whether like myself and Mercy, they were Pilgrims in quest of the Promised Land, he smiled again but made no answer.
Over the next two days the ship was fitted out for its long voyage. Speedwell had been a leaky vessel, and Moreby had ordered its sides to be painted with pitch, “So that,” remarked Captain Reynolds, “the ship became very black in its outward aspect, and some sayd they would not know it to be in very truth the Speedwell, but called it ‘The Black Ship.’” Martha complained much of the smell while this procedure was going forward, but even more of the company that was coming aboard to take up residence with them in the ’tween decks.
She wrote: They seem a most ill-assorted and ungodly crowd, for when I asked them if there was a Pastor or Elder among them who might conduct prayers or read to us from Holy Scripture, they did look upon us with amazement. Then one, a toothless old crone who went by the name of Mother Demdyke, let out such a cackle of hideous mirth, I thought the very Devill Himself had come to mock us in our travail. Finally, on September 8th, Moreby came aboard and they slipped out of Plymouth on the tide the following morning.
The first few weeks of the voyage would appear to be relatively uneventful, but one can gather that the journey was not an easy or a comfortable one from the start, even in relatively fine weather. In spite of its coating of pitch, the Speedwell was still very leaky and conditions on the ’tween decks were (as they had been on Mayflower) extremely damp and uncomfortable. Martha and her daughter, Mercy, kept themselves aloof from the other passengers, whom they did not like. There was in their attitude no doubt a certain element of puritan self-righteousness, but one can also sympathize when Martha writes:
They were forever restless and unquiet, and did utter strange cries or chaunts at all hours of day and night. Oft times they did seem to talk in a strange tongue that I knew not of, and I heard certain words repeated which filled me with great uncertainty and dread, such as “Ctholhoo fertagen” [sic] and other such strange locutions. When I did ask them what language it was they spoke, they did say naught; but one, Mother Demdyke, did say it was the tongue of the “Olde Ones.” Then several of the others did look upon her very sharply at this and she spoke no more.
Though we subsisted on the ship’s food and drink as we were entitled—and very ill it was—we had brought some supplies of our own for the journey, such as some barrels of dried fruit and pease, which one night we offered to share with the other passengers, but they did refuse, eying us with much suspicion.
That same evening as we were preparing to settle to our sleep, behind the curtain we had erected, of a sudden the curtains parted and we beheld a face grinning at us. It was only one of the boys—a strange lad of a familie called Curwen, as we discovered—but so filthy and malignant was his aspect that we were much affrighted. He drew the curtains round him so that we saw naught but his head, which continued to grin and leer until my Mercy took her besom and knocked him o’er the mazzard with it.
This is to be a most black and lonely voyage in the midst of this ungodly rabble, but we put our trust in the Lord that by His Good Grace, we shall make landfall and find rest and companionship once more in His Saints.
Four weeks into the voyage, the Speedwell was hit by storms. Martha’s account becomes scanty and all but illegible at times because of the rolling of the ship. One can gather, however, that conditions were peculiarly horrible. The Speedwell, a smaller ship even than Mayflower, was thrown about like a leaf on the waves, and the ’tween decks where Martha and Mercy spent most of their time was often swilling and slippery with sea water which had come in through a thousand tiny leaks in the ship’s sides. Martha and Mercy often took a hand at the pumps to prevent the ship from sinking altogether.
Captain Reynolds’s log during this period is terse: Heavy seas . . . The seamen discontented and anxious to make landfall . . . We are short of victuals and are like to starve if relief does not come soon.
Then comes a more detailed series of entries, and it appears as if Reynolds is beginning to use his log more as a confessional than a record:
October 3rd. High seas and contrary winds continue. Moreby comes to me and commands that I turn south. I reply that it would take us out of our way, and that our provisions and drinking water will last us but a few days longer, so that we cannot alter course on pain of starvation and sickness. But Master Moreby tells me that this is his ship by right, and I must obey. Besides, he says, by turning south I must escape the tempest. I ask him how he knows this, for assuredly I do not, and I have been at sea many years longer than he, and he tells me that he knows and it is written in the stars, and he commands me to turn south. I must perforce obey, but all is not well about my heart.
There have been murmurings from my men about some of the guests he has aboard, for they are very ill-favoured and speak often in strange tongues. But I must endure all this.
October 4th. We had been travelling south for nigh on twenty hours, Master Moreby ever at my side when I am at the wheel, the weather never abating. Then, at about eleven in the forenoon, suddenly all is calm. The wind is hushed, the billows abate as if by some miracle, and a light mist descends. Barely a breeze stirs our sails, and yet we seem to be borne forward as if by a current. Moreby instructs me minutely where I must turn my ship. I ask him where we are—for I know not—and if we shall see land soon, but he says only that I must follow his instruction precisely, for he has guidance from the stars. I take this to be mere whim wham, for we have seen little of t
he stars for many days, but I may not reason with him. On each occasion that I raise some complaint or objection, he gives me such a look that I dare not venture further.
He carries about him a great old book, about the size of a church Bible, which he consults most reverently and studiously, and yet methinks it is no Holy Book, for once, when I chanced to see into it, I beheld the image of a most blasphemous shape, a demon most like, with a heavy head and a most venemous hair and beard, like to a Medusa I have seen in an old carving, all serpents and writhing coils. And when Master Moreby espyed that I had seen it, he did shutt the book and commanded me on pain of Death never to look into his book againe.
October 5th. The mist clears a little, the sea staying calm and almost glassy, when shortly after two in the afternoon, Bates, one of my seamen, spies land from the crow’s nest in the main mast. Master Moreby takes out a length of leather like a staff and puts it to his eye in the direction to which Bates pointed. I, greatly wondering, asked him what this signifyed, and he passed me the object and bade me look through it. At first I could make nothing of it, then I saw. This must be the new spying glass of which I heard tell in Holland last summer.
It was land of a sort that I saw, and, I guessed, an island, yet a very strange land indeed the like of which I had never yet beheld. It stood up out of the sea in great rocks and pillars of a green stone, yet with scarce any vegetation upon it, and all at angles as if shaped by a giant, or Cyclops. It mounted in steps and causeways up to a great summit, level at the top yet with one black stone upon it. It seemed to me—fanciful though it may sound—that I beheld not so much an island as the topmost excrescences of some great palace or monument, much of which must be sunk in the depths of the sea. The sight of it filled me with much amazement and terrour, but Moreby told me to steer towards it. There, he sayd, we would find sweet water and a safe haven in which to repair our battered vessell. I could scarce gainsay him for we were sorely in need of both, yet I had great misgivings.
I asked him if there might not be savage men and beasts dwelling on the isle who might do us harm, but he merely gave me the spying glass againe and bade me look to discern if there was any man or beast to be seen. I looked and there was not, and yet this very emptiness giveth me cause to fear. Who made these vast rocks to stand thus? For assuredly it is no work of Nature, so exact and sharp are the angles of their turrets, spires, terraces, and cloud-mantled pinnacles. And yet no men did neither, but only some race of giant and monstrous Daemons, Anthropophagi, Cyclopes, or some fell Ogre.
It must be from about this time that the last of Martha’s account derives, though she gives no exact dates:
We are entered into calm waters, for which Christ in His mercy be thanked. Master Moreby came down to speak with the assembled company in the ’tween deck. He spoke of our being “very near our deliverance,” and sayd that we should make land shortly. Then I asked what part of the New World we were coming to and when could I meet again my brothers and sisters in Christ. But he looked upon me with a strange smile and sayd that we were not there yet, and that it was not a New World but a very ancient one indeed. That talk of New Worlds was mere foolishness, for all worlds were indeed older than God Himself, which I took to be blasphemy, but I held my tongue and restrained my daughter Mercy from crying out in righteous objection. The others in the company kept silent, but methought they understood more than I, for I heard much murmuring among them about “The Olde Ones” and of “Chtholhoo” [sic] which troubled me greatly. I am now most grievously assured that we are fallen among the Ungodly and may not escape the snares of the Evil One.
That night, my Mercy had a dream which she told me of the following morning. For she dreamed she was on a high place surrounded by the sea, and she lay upon a bed of stone open to the heavens, and above her stood a great black pillar or monument, highly polish’d and carved with many curious figures and characters. On that pillar was crouched a beast, or demon, but like no demon she had ever seen in any cut or engraving in a book; for it had no horns, but only short leathern wings and its mouth parts were a mass of serpents. For the rest she would not tell me because it had so affrighted her. And all around her were gathered those who worshipped the beast upon the stone with great cries and wailings. And she looked for me in her terror but could not find me, and then she besought Christ of His great mercy to deliver her, but the company round about laughed her prayers to scorn. And looking up she saw a light from Heaven and Jesus in his infinite pity looking down upon her from a cloud all lit up from within by the glorious rays of the sun. Yet he was very far off and could not reach her, and as she pleaded for him to descend and rescue her she woke in fear and trembling, and with such a piteous cry that those who were about us in the ’tween decks did scold us for waking them from their slumbers.
That morning, it being calm and bright, we came on deck and beheld the Island where we were to make landfall. We gazed in wonder at its strangeness, for in the milky sunlight with which it was bathed we could see that it was all made of great green rocks, sharp and cut askew as if by some giant hand.
Then I asked Master Moreby if he knew the name of this place that we were coming to, and he replyed that he knew the name, but it was one that might not be spoken in common company, for it was a very holy place. So I asked if it was some shrine or temple where the Papists in their folly worshipped the bones of the Virgin or some such vanity. Then he sayd it was not like that at all, but that we should presently see its wonders when we came ashore with him. I sayd that neither I nor my daughter Mercy would care to set foot in this heathen and ungodly place, but Master Moreby sayd there was no choice in the matter, for all must go ashore. Then was I much affrighted, but of what I know not.
Here the testament of Martha Edwards ends abruptly. For the rest we must rely on the account of Captain Reynolds in his log book:
October 6th. On this day we made landfall at the Island which has no name and is not marked on any map. We found an inlet where we could drop anchor and enjoy shelter from the winds. There was but a small beach of grey-green stones where our boats could land, and from there I saw an ancient stepped causeway which wound upwards through the rocks into the centre of the Island. I was for going ashore, but Master Moreby prevented it. He sayd that I and my crew should remain aboard to conduct repairs, but that he would lead a party ashore from among the passengers who would presently bring back to the ship casks filled with fresh water, meat, provisions, and other necessary things for the completion of our voyage. I was much amazed at this, but knew better than to raise objection, for Master Moreby hath a way of looking at one that quells all protest. Among those who went ashore were Martha and Mercy Edwards, and I thought they went with an ill-grace, but I had little reason or power to prevent them.
October 7th. The party is returned from the Island, bringing with them our barrels filled with fresh water, and other provisions, including some herbs and roots, many great crabs gathered from the shore, and two carcasses of fresh meat. When I did ask from what animal came the carcasses, they replyed that they were piggs with which the isle abounded. On my remarking that I had never seen piggs of such length and leanness, Master Moreby sayd that these creatures were native to the Island and nowhere else to be found. Then I and all my men came ashore and made a fire on the beach, where we roasted the piggs on spits and made merry, for it was a long time since we had been able to feast with such abundance. The meat was very good and, especially that from the smaller of the two carcases, most tender, sweet and flavoursome.
But I noticed that Master Moreby held aloof and would eat nothing but a few pot herbs and dried fruit, and when I asked him the cause, he sayd that his needs were simple and that he made a practice at all times to live on little. Then I saw that Martha and Mercy Edwards were not of the company, and he told me that they were weary of the sea and had resolved to stay on the Island and convert the natives—if such there be—to the true religion of Christ and make it their home. But I did not altogether believe him, tho
ugh I sayd naught, and was very troubled in my conscience at it.
October 7th (later). This day I thought we might set sail, but Master Moreby came to me and sayd there was one thing most necessary to be done, and for this he required the strength and skills of myself and my men. He told me that at the top of the Island was a black stone which he wished to be removed and placed in the ship to take to the Americas. He sayd that it required the strength and skill of my men to transport this object by means of ropes and other devices. I protested most strongly that neither I nor my men were contracted to service the random desires of anyone aboard and that, besides, I knew not if my vessell would sustain the weight of such an object. Then Moreby stared at me and sayd that any disobedience to his commands would go very ill with me. He sayd, moreover, that if it were known widely that my men and I had tasted of forbidden flesh, I should suffer the hatred of all the world. Angrily I asked him what he meant, but he, remaining silent, eyed me as before, and I knew, to my everlasting shame, what he meant. I therefore gave instructions to my men, who were much astonished by my commands, but made no murmur of complaint. And so, with six of my crew, a quantity of rope, and other necessary accoutrement, I stepped ashore once again, accompanied by Master Moreby and a few of the more able-bodied passengers.
I had had occasion to remark the strangeness of the Island, even on slight acquaintance; now, on venturing further in, I was struck most forcibly by the alien and unnatural quality of its features. The rocks of which it was chiefly composed were of a greenish hue, but not from moss or vegetation, but like the verdant marbles, so highly prized by the men of Italy. Yet I have never seen such stone in such abundance before, and it seemed to have been shaped by cunning hands. We followed a path of smooth flat stones, like the pavement of some great palace or temple, which led ever upwards between great clefts in the rock.
The Lovecraft Squad: Dreaming Page 2