The Mayflower Bride Read online

  Dorothy smiled. “Now, don’t you feel better? The color in your cheeks is back.”

  “Yes.” The honest statement surprised her. It was true. The simple quoting of her favorite passage brought calm to her spirit. Mary Elizabeth hugged her friend. “I feel like our Lord has banished the fear from me.”

  “Wonderful.” Dorothy bounced on her toes—a habit that she’d had since childhood.

  Mary Elizabeth faced the west and grabbed onto the bulwark. Water as far as the eye could see.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Her friend’s exuberant voice bubbled up and spilled out, making Mary Elizabeth feel foolish for her anxious thoughts. “Like I said, adventure awaits. New land. New home. New life. New…everything!”

  A small laugh escaped her lips. She’d never tire of Dorothy’s positive outlook. “Yes, God is so very good to us.” And He was. She knew that. She would conquer this fear and doubt with His help. The fear was because of her doubt and worry—neither of which was honoring to God. She’d have to work on those areas of her life. If she was going to become a Godly woman like her mother, she had a long way to go.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Mary Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Whatever for?”

  “I can see the determination on your face. It’s a brave thing you’ve done, Lizzy.” She covered her mouth after the nickname from their childhood came out. “Sorry, it slipped. I know we’re not children anymore.”

  Mary Elizabeth hooked arms with her lifelong friend and smiled. “It’s all right. You’re the only one I’d allow to call me that, and I think you have the privilege after all this time.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Just don’t use it in front of David. He’ll start calling me that again, and Papa would have a fit. He said it’s not becoming for a young lady and implies ill character.” She took another deep breath as they took a few, slow steps to the other side of the ship. “Thank you for thinking that I’m brave, but I’m not near as strong as you are.”

  “That’s rubbish.” Dorothy put her other hand on her hip and turned toward her. “It’s extremely brave. Everything you’ve done and had to endure. This was a huge step…walking into the unknown. It takes a lot more courage when you’re not one prone to adventure.”

  “Like you.”

  Dorothy giggled. “My other friends in Leyden thought me daft. Always excited about something new. But you never ridiculed me for my unusual and impetuous spirit. I’m very grateful for that. You’re the steady, compassionate, dependable one. I’m the—”

  “Good morning, ladies.”

  Mary Elizabeth turned around and noticed Myles Standish, the adviser and guide they’d hired in Holland. “Good morning, Mr. Standish.”

  “Good morning,” Dorothy echoed and grabbed Mary Elizabeth’s arm again.

  “It’s a wonderful day to set sail, isn’t it?” Standish stood at the bulwark with his feet spread wide and his hands clasped behind his back. He obviously was accustomed to the rolling seas and was confident in his stance.

  Mary Elizabeth studied him and moved her boots apart under her heavy skirt and petticoats while Dorothy chattered. Surely she could hide the unladylike carriage underneath all the layers she wore. It was awkward, but if a wider posture helped her stay steady on the ship, she’d learn. Wouldn’t Dorothy be proud and get a laugh out of this later? With a grin, Mary Elizabeth imagined how that conversation might go—and how she could prove she was at least trying to be courageous.

  “Mr. Standish.” Dorothy’s tone brought Mary Elizabeth back to the talk around her. Her friend moved toward the man. “I hear you have copies of Captain Smith’s writings and maps.”

  “Indeed I do, Miss Raynsford.”

  “Might we see the map of where we hope to land?” Dorothy had tried ever since they’d left Holland to speak to the man, but there’d never been an opportune time. Now her chance had come. And Dorothy was one who never passed up a fortuitous situation like this.

  “Of course. Let’s find a place below where we can be out of the wind. I don’t want to risk anything blowing away.” Mr. Standish stretched out his arm, indicating the girls should precede him.

  Her friend clasped her hands together. “Thank you very much, Mr. Standish, I’m quite excited to see them.”

  As they navigated the narrow companionway to the deck below, Mary Elizabeth felt some of Dorothy’s excitement. She’d always been a bit fascinated by Captain John Smith and his adventures in the New World, but his reputation as a swashbuckling braggart and his quoted prices to lead their expedition had made the elders search out another adviser.

  Now to get a glimpse of the maps thrilled her. Maybe she had a bit more of an adventurous spirit than she thought. Maybe all those prayers for courage were being answered with an affirmation from above.

  When Mr. Standish opened the book and pulled out several folded pieces of paper, he became very serious. “Please don’t touch the maps—they are tedious to reproduce. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course.” Dorothy’s head bobbed up and down in a vigorous nod.

  “Yes, sir.” Mary Elizabeth knew the man was serious about his duties. And ruining a map they needed would be disastrous for their whole colony.

  An English soldier who had also been living in Holland, Myles Standish’s reputation was pristine. He seemed to be a good and knowledgeable man and agreed to the Saints’ rules.

  Carefully unfolding a large square, Mr. Standish cleared his throat and held it up so the light from the door above would shine on the paper. “Now this is the map of Virginia.”

  Dorothy scooted in closer. “And where will the new colony be?”

  He pointed to the most northern section of the map and then went off the map farther. “Somewhere in here. Right at the mouth of the Hudson River.”

  “That’s a good deal north of Jamestown.” Dorothy pointed and tilted her head.

  “Yes, it is. But that is where our patent lies. It will be beautiful and have plenty of water.”

  Mary Elizabeth studied the detailed map. It must have taken Captain Smith days upon days—possibly even months—to explore all that territory and coastline. The hours invested made her shake her head in wonder. The map itself was exquisite in its detail. “Is there anything else north of Virginia?” She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the discussions about the New World because they seemed to cause her a lot of stress, but now she was fascinated. All she remembered was that Florida was somewhere south of Virginia.

  “Yes, there is an entire region Captain Smith named New England.” Mr. Standish folded the Virginia map and pulled out another paper. He opened it up. “All of this is north of Virginia and a good deal north of where we are destined. But we won’t be headed that far up the coastline. Maybe one day you’ll get to explore that area. I hear it’s quite beautiful.”

  “Look, Mary Elizabeth.” Dorothy pointed. “There’s a place here on the map called ‘Plimouth.’ Oh, and one named ‘Oxford.’ And there’s even a ‘London.’ ” She giggled and turned to Mr. Standish. “Are there actually settlements or cities there?”

  “No. It’s barely been explored, although the fishing waters in that area are quite good and many vessels are familiar with the bays and harbors. Captain Smith took the liberty—with Prince Charles’s help—to name locations, harbors, points, and such after good strong English names. Thus the title: New England.”

  “This area is named Cape James?” Mary Elizabeth studied the hook-shaped piece of land at the bottom of the map.

  “Indeed. Although another captain named it Cape Cod quite a while before Smith. I think most of the sailors still think of it as Cape Cod because of the abundance of the fish.”

  “What about the section in between? Do you have a map of that?” Mary Elizabeth’s curiosity was piqued. Between the two maps, she could almost picture the coastline of the New World—and instead of inciting fear, it created a new excitement.

  “Well, that part is uncharted so far. There are dangerous
shoals and other areas that ships have had to avoid.”

  “I’m terribly glad we’re not headed there.” Dorothy’s light laughter filled the close quarters. “Thank you so much for showing us, Mr. Standish.”

  “You are quite welcome.” He bowed and closed his book. “And don’t you worry. We know exactly where we are going.”

  Wednesday, 9 August 1620

  The slight breeze ruffled William’s hair as he stood at the bow of the Mayflower and watched the Speedwell lazily cut through the water. They needed more wind if they were going to make any headway. Their ship master—Christopher Jones—had been ordering the crew to work the sails all morning.

  “William!” John Alden’s voice made him turn around.

  “Afternoon, John.” William greeted his new friend.

  This was new ground for him. Actually having a friend his own age. Although John was a year past William’s own twenty years, they continued to discover how much they had in common.

  John had been hired as the cooper—or barrel maker—for the Mayflower. An important job, since all the provisions were stored in barrels. His responsibilities were to build, repair, and maintain the hefty number. And since William was a carpenter, they enjoyed working together and discussing shared ideas for building and for working with wood.

  “We need some good gusts of wind, don’t we?” John patted him on the back.

  “That we do.” William looked back toward the Speedwell. “I’m pretty sure everyone else is having the same thoughts. We’re all anxious to get to Virginia.”

  “Aye. I’ve got so many things I want to try—my dreams for the future have made my imagination work around the clock.” John pulled a small book out of his pocket and looked around them. “I haven’t shown this to anyone else, but what do you think? Do you think it will work?”

  William studied the drawing of what appeared to be a specialized wood-cutting machine. His friend was much like him. Young and unafraid of the future, William was ready to take on whatever the new settlement might need. He too had lots of ideas for how to improve the way things were done. But he had never shared his ideas with anyone. “I think it’s a grand idea. Will you have all the parts to make it?”

  “I tried to use only what I knew we would have with us.” He turned the page. “But for some of my other ideas, I’ll have to wait for the Fortune scheduled to arrive next year.”

  “What about Jamestown?” William eyed the next few drawings. “Do you know what kind of supplies they have?”

  “It’s such a long way from where we will be. It could take a few days by ship to get there, don’t you agree? I don’t know if it’s worth traveling that distance. I’ve already requested certain items be sent on each of the next three ships. It was one of my requirements when I hired on.”

  William nodded. He didn’t realize they’d be so far from Jamestown. But it didn’t matter. Excited energy built in his heart. There would be a lot of firsts to come. He’d love to be the first one recognized for his craftsmanship in building. He dreamed of building cathedrals and churches as beautiful and elaborate as some of the prized ones in Europe. His mentor and master had shown him several drawings of them. Would his name one day be associated with something beautiful in history?

  John’s head jerked up from the book and jolted William out of the thought. “What do you think of that?”

  William followed John’s gaze and watched as the Speedwell appeared to be turning around. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look like a good thing.” He pointed. “Look, there’s someone on the bow waving a flag.”

  Hurried footsteps sounded behind them. William turned.

  Master Christopher Jones came toward the bulwark with his spyglass held out. He looked through it.

  A small crowd gathered, but silence reigned as everyone watched their captain.

  William realized he was holding his breath while he waited for news.

  The ship master grimaced then let out a long breath. “Looks like we are headed back to England, chaps. The Speedwell has sprung a leak.”

  Thursday, 10 August 1620

  The bucket sloshed as Mary Elizabeth climbed up the companionway once again. Prayerfully, her hour of work was almost done because everything ached. Who knew a bucket of water could weigh so much after these many trips?

  The shipmaster yelled down from the poop deck. “She’s still sittin’ too low, lads. We’re takin’ on too much water!”

  Mary Elizabeth looked up to where the man stood. Leaning over the stern of the ship, he shook his head. “Everyone needs to move faster!”

  Faster wasn’t something she was sure her muscles could take. There weren’t enough people to make a bucket line from the bottom to the top, so they all trekked back and forth. Going down with an empty bucket was easier than climbing up with a full one.

  Their group of passengers had been divided up into four groups. Men, women, and children were all included. Each group took an hour shift. A brutal hour of going down to the deepest level of the ship, filling up a bucket with the sea water that continually seeped in, climbing up the two levels, and dumping the water back where it belonged. Afterward they’d rest for three hours while the other groups worked and then start right back at it.

  The first shift, everyone was passionate about the job. No one wanted to sink. Fear drove them. But after little sleep and hefting and hauling, most had grown silent. They were soaked and weary.

  As she threw the water over the bulwark, Mary Elizabeth saw her father bring his bucket up. For the first time in a long while, he looked tired instead of excited about the journey. “Papa, are you doing all right?”

  A forced smile lit his features. “As well as I can.” He nodded to her bucket. “We best get back down below.

  “Yes, Father.” She nodded and followed him down the companionway. Her younger brother made it to the steps as she reached the bottom.

  He set his bucket down and wiped his brow. Only half full, it was still too much for a small boy to have to carry.

  “Let me help you, David.” Mary Elizabeth reached for the rope handle.

  “No. I can do it. I just needed a breath.”

  The poor little chap. Trying so hard to be a grown-up. It didn’t make sense that the ship master expected the children to assist. But then again, every able hand was helpful.

  David headed up the steps, and she turned and went down the other companionway.

  At the last step, her boots hit water. Much higher than before.

  The master’s mate continued to shout orders from the stern where the leak was worst. Mary Elizabeth sloshed her way to the others. Why was there so much more water? How would they ever get it all out?

  What met her eyes caused her to gasp.

  The crack in the bottom of the ship wasn’t just a thin gap—it had grown.

  And water poured in.

  CHAPTER 3

  Tuesday, 15 August 1620

  Dartmouth, England

  William bent over his journal with his quill. So far, there hadn’t been a lot to report, but he wanted to be honorable and write down everything—to prove that he was a good steward for his new employers.

  Now in port at Dartmouth for repairs on the Speedwell, he was anxious to get back to sea. Dry land was wonderful, but it couldn’t match the thrill of the new life ahead of him. Going backward in his journey hadn’t been part of the plan. And he did not enjoy deviations from his plans.

  He and John took turns going ashore since neither one of them wanted to leave the whole of their worldly possessions to thieves who might try and get aboard while docked. So every time John went into town, William took the time to make notes of all he could remember having seen and heard.

  The delay in getting to their destination would mean delay in getting the settlement set up. But it was a miracle the Speedwell had made it back to port without sinking. Thanks to the crew and the passengers, they’d kept her afloat.

  But as the calendar days moved later into the year
, the possibility to arrive early enough to plant anything this year vanished. While everyone tried to stay positive, the unspoken fear was palpable.

  The delay also could affect their preparation of the ground to produce food next year. The risk to the Merchants and Adventurers’ investment could be costly. But it wasn’t his job to speculate. Only to report. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help the little niggle of worry that started in the back of his mind. The delay would affect them all. But how much?

  John came down the companionway of the Mayflower toward him. “What are you working on, my friend?”

  “Just a journal.” William shrugged and closed the book. “How was your trip to town?”

  “It was good to stretch my legs and run, but it’s quite boring to not be of use. Ended up offering to help on the Speedwell with repairs, and they said they needed another good carpenter—would you be interested?”

  “Of course.” William stood. “Anything to get us back out to sea faster.” Tucking the journal into his trunk, he covered it with a few other items. Then he pulled out a satchel of tools and locked the chest. “Lead the way, my friend.”

  John nodded and took the steps two at a time. “I’ve hired a young lad to keep an eye on our belongings.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yes. He’s actually my cousin, so I know we can trust him.”

  A gangly young boy appeared at the top of the companionway. “I’ll make sure everything is tip-top, John.”

  “Thank you, Matthew.” John tousled the boy’s hair. “This is my friend, William Lytton.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Lytton.” A scrawny hand went over his waist as the lad bowed.

  William laughed. “How about we just shake hands”—he held out his hand—“like gentlemen.”

  “Yes, sir.” The boy smiled and gave William’s hand a hearty shake.

  “It looks like everything will be in good hands.” William looked to John. “Let’s see if we can help get the Speedwell seaworthy again.”

  John took long strides ahead of William—his eagerness to be useful quite apparent. Such an interesting man this new friend. The simplicity of calling someone friend was still a bit unusual for William. But he’d enjoyed the ease of their conversations and the camaraderie. No one on the ship knew that he was an orphan. No one knew his past—being kicked out to fend for himself as a child and being taken in by the man who’d taught him a trade. Instead of an outcast, he was part of a group—the Planters.