Sept. 3, 1620
Today is the first day of our journey to the New World. Jonathan has set off days
before us. It is only us now, little Timmy, Horace and I. My dear friend Carry
is coming to the New World with her three sons, Jim, Gareth, and Colby. We,
along with other women and children, were waiting to board the ship. Sailors are running
to and fro, everyone is in a rush. They do not know what calamities await us,
and we all must be prepared for anything. "Mother," says little
Timmy, only four years of age. " When will we get on the boat? I am
tired,"
"I am sorry,
dear, we must wait only but a little longer," I say to him. Horace, who is eight years, points at the sails.
" We should be off soon, now! Look how the sails are
unfurling, Timmy!" Timmy looks in awe as the " big waving
sheets", as he calls them, rolled out slowly. Before we knew it, we were
on board, below the deck, and putting our small bags of clothing and private
items on the shelves on the wall. The sleeping quarters were very tight, and
the boys shared a bed. Cramped as we were, we managed to make do. Dozens of
people were in our cabin, blankets spread on the ground as make-shift beds. I
looked around and decided that if we were going to be living here for several
weeks, we had better get comfortable. I am writing these events as the boat
rocks back and again, dim candles glowing, and sleeping persons.
Sept. 4, 1620
The waves are
tossing up against the sides of the ship. We are all feeling weak. The small
meal we were given was hardly enough to fill us up. Timmy complains of being
tired now and again. I tell him to go to bed, but he refused to leave my side.
I finally convinced him to go, and concerned that he might be ill, I go to
Carry for advice.
" When my boys have been ill, they are tired and hot.
They toss and turn, and fall asleep. I soothe their head with a damp rag, and
keep them cool. Keep them out of the sun, and in the cabin," Carry
suggested. I took her advice, and put Horace to work on finding a rag, while I
looked for water. After a long search, I found a basin of cool water next to
the wash rag for hands. Soon, Horace was back with a clean rag. Timmy lay in his bed, his forehead very hot. What luck, when we finally set off, we have barely started, and many people are not used to the rocking of the boat.
" Poor Timmy, he is sick so early in the journey," said Horace. Carry helped me with Timmy, while Horace and Carry's boys played with some little friends of theirs that they made. Later in the morning, the Captain called us all above deck. Every one who had boarded was up there, making it very difficult to move around. "All boys, please step forward," he said, in his booming voice. "You will climb the ropes from this day forth. You will look out for other ships, and storms, way up there!" Capt. barked, as if the children were still infants. Horace and the others cheered, and set off with the sailors, who would show them how to climb. I do not like the idea of my children climbing the high ropes, that are used to turn the sails. Timmy would have loved to climb them, but I insisted he stay in bed. Thank goodness for that! I wish Jonathan was here to help me. I miss him dearly.
