“I will do that. I will beg of him to reconsider the table, on
the morrow. Mary, when the weather improves, will you come to the cemetery with me?”
“Of course I shall. And bring the boys?”
“We will, but I would like to make a trip there with just the two of us first.” He stood and picked up the candle. “May we get some sleep?”
“I'm so tired from the trip, sleep shall be good.”
As she walked toward their bedroom, she heard him pause. He said good night to Ann, as he always did.
Spring arrived, wet though it was, and while the morning was still fresh, Mary set out to pick flowers. She and Barney would go to the cemetery today, and she wanted a bouquet to place on Ann's grave.
Jay and Ben climbed in the cart as Barney whistled to Baldy, and they started down the lane. “You know, boys, Miss Tilly will not be able to make the voyage with us.” He glanced at the boys.
“What? Why can't she come with us?” Their plea was almost in unison.
Mary pulled Ben close and leaned toward Jay. “Miss Tilly is old. It would not be nice to her to bring her on the ship. She will be much happier with Aunt Lizzie and your cousins.”
Barney nodded. “Mayhap Joshua will take her under his care. What do you think, Joseph?”
“Yes, Father. Joshua would be good to her. Those girls are too jumpy and noisy. Miss Tilly needs someone who will hold her and not squeeze her.”
Lizzie came out when they arrived. She laughed as the boys scrambled off the wagon and chattered to their cousins about
Miss Tilly. Lizzie would never complain about one more to take care of.
“Don't worry about the boys, Mary. Joshua has been looking forward to playing with them all morning.”
“We shan't be long. Barney wanted a bit of time at the cemetery and then we shall be right back.” As they pulled away Mary waved, but only Lizzie returned itâthe children too busy to notice.
As they entered the cemetery, they stopped for a moment. The grass, green and tall from the rains, swayed with the breeze. Ann's grave was up the hill and Barney urged Baldy forward.
He helped Mary down and she gently put the nosegay across the blue slate. They stood in prayerful silence, his Bible tucked under his arm.
He cleared his throat. “Mayhap this is not the time to ask this of you, but I do not know what would be a good time. May I share with you the words I wrote for my slate?”
He knew the words he wanted on the slate? He had never answered her question about his health. In fact she had asked it in jest. But perhaps she should ask again. “Barney, are you ill? Why do you plan your epitaph?”
“Nay, it's not that. Certes, I would tell you if I were ill. Gracious, it is not about that at all.”
“Then I should like to hear it.” She chose her words carefully. She still smarted from the words they had exchanged weeks ago. “'Tis important to me that you are at peace when we leave Mowsley. I know no matter how hard you try to believe to the contrary, it will be hard for you to leave. Tell me now, what you intend for your tomb.”
“I want my name, place of birth, and the date of my birth and death to frame the face of it. Of course, the date of death would be added after I'm gone.”
She raised her brow. “You have this well planned, Barney.”
“Aye. I am thinking in the center I would like to say that it is with God that I now abide, and that our children should trust and obey our Lord so that they may come to rest in God's holy place with me.”
“My, but that is a lot to say and methinks you have put much thought into this.”
“I have, my sweet. In truth, I have penned it. Here, read it and tell me your thoughts.” He opened his Bible and carefully removed a folded parchment and handed it to her.
He looked flustered as she took the paper. It seemed important to him. She lowered herself to the damp ground and unfolded it. The paper fluttered in the wind, and her eyes, reflecting the blue sky, began to mist.
Here lies my body tombed in dust
till Christ shall come to raise it with the just;
my soul ascended to the throne of God
where with sweet Jesus now I make abode;
Then hasten after me, my dearest wife,
to be a partaker of this blessed life;
And you, dear children all, follow the Lord,
hear and obey His public sacred word;
and in your houses call upon His name,
for oft have I advised you to the same:
then God will bless you with your children all,
and to this blessed place He will you call.
She hugged the paper to her chest as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Barney, I do not know what to say. This is beautiful. I love that it is a message for all of your children and their children to come. Generations of Hortons. Why did you not tell me of this?”
“It means much to me and I was not sure you would understand. I want to bring the blue slate. I do want you to have the table, though, and I have petitioned Jeremy to bring it.”
She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “ I see two messages here. Am I correct?”
His smile was broad and genuine. “Aye, you see that? I pray for you to follow me to this new land, our new abode, where our children can grow up hearing God's sacred Word and be able to worship Him in our home, free of persecution. If we do this, I truly believe that God will bless us with many children.”
“I like that.” She smoothed the paper and studied the words once more.
“And then when He calls me to my final abode, I pray you hasten to join me in heaven, and that all of our children, and their children, under our covenant with God, will join us too. I feel we are beginning a most significant journey going to the New World. I know it is hard to leave behind our family and possessions, but the Church of England believes it can control the minds of men, and it cannot. We are ordained by God to have a free will. Aye, it is time for us to leave. The blue slate will endure forever. I want all of my children for the generations to come to know of me and why I came to the New World.”
“I love you, Barney. What you have written here is testament to your faith in God.” She searched his eyes to see his soul. “I am troubled though, with one thing.”
“What is that, my sweet?”
“Ann has gone before you to heaven. She is waiting there for you. When you join her, what becomes of me?”
“I would never forget you. That is why I wrote that for the blue slate. Aye, I will be happy to be joined with Ann once more and I do celebrate that thought. But I will not forget you.
I believe God brought us together for a purpose. I will be waiting for you.”
“But who would be married to you? Ann?”
He looked at the blue slate covering his Ann's grave. “On this earth I am married to you. In the Bible, I believe God teaches there is no marriage in heaven. I will wait for you and rejoice with all of the angels when you are at heaven's door.”
She took his hand. “I need you, Barney. I have you now and for that I am thankful. I pray we have many, many children, and that from our seed there will be generations to come that will gaze upon your blue slate and know you were a man of God, obedient to His ways and one who truly loved his children. But I hope 'tis a long time from now.”
He swept her into his arms and kissed her nose, then her waiting lips. “You understand me so well. Thank you for that. I have not had a reply from Jeremy, but surely he will grant us our requests. There must be some merit to being the shipmaster's brother.”
Mary squeezed his hand. Ann had been blessed. She had a husband who was honorable and loved her very much. Would Barnabas ever love her the same way?
May 5, 1637
London, England
Standing on the pier, Mary could taste the salt on the dank air. The wooden ships bobbed like apples in a water bucket.
The Swallow
's sails flapped in the wind.
She held on tightly to Jay's and Ben's hands as the crew heaved cargo up to the deck. Crates of oranges, turnips, and winter lettuce were hauled on board. Heavy barrels of salted meat were rolled up the plank, and bags of beans, too many to count, were tossed from one sailor to another.
“Mama, look.” Ben's voice rang with excitement. “Look, our table!”
She attempted a smile as the table was hoisted to the deck, followed by two weighty oak casks. Everything they would have in the New World was in those casks. The family joked they were filled with gold, they were so heavy. “Yes, Ben, the table goes with us.”
Jeremy had responded that the blue slate should stay and granted Mary's request to bring the oak table, provided the legs
be removed. He commiserated with his brother, but promised he would do much importing in the future and would make delivery of the blue slate a priority.
Jay's hand wriggled to escape her grasp and she clung tighter. He disliked holding hands, but today he needed her. Ben's love came so easily. Would Jay ever return her love?
She looked up and down amongst the crowd for Papa, Lizzie, Zeke, and the children. Everything she'd done this past year prepared her for their journey and she'd visited her family as often as the days would allow, but nothing could have prepared her for the ill she felt in her stomach this day. She spotted Josh first, running ahead of his sisters and Lizzie. Zeke brought up the rear with Papa.
Allowing Jay to run up ahead to greet his cousins, she wrapped her arms around Ben and kissed his blond curls. “It shall be hard saying goodbye to everyone. Help me through this, Ben.”
“Why don't they come with us, Mama? Why must we leave them here? Father says it's not safe. Why would they stay?”
“I wish they could come. Perhaps they shall miss us too much and decide to follow us.” She squeezed him harder.
Lizzie pushed through the crowd, her crystal blue eyes dry, but her cheeks red and tearstained. Just like Lizzie to hide her pain. Rachel and Ruth pulled at Ben until he was obliged to join them in a game of tag.
Tears collected in Mary's eyes as Lizzie and Hannah joined her. “'Tis good for him to run off some energy. It shall be a long journey without much chance of such play.”
“That is true. I cannot imagine life on a ship. 'Tis like a prison, is it not?” Lizzie smiled with a tease in her eyes.
Mary giggled despite herself. “I could not know yet, but thank you for the thought. You've an odd way of alleviating tension, my dear sister.”
The wind whipped the sails around the tall masts as if impatient, and Mary looked up at the ship that would carry her small family away to the New World. How many ships had she watched labor out of this very harbor? To think she would now be the one waving from the deck. Would it be a prison? No matter, as long as they lived to tell about it.
Lizzie followed her gaze. “You always said you loved the ships.”
She forced her attention back to the pier, searching for Papa. “What was I thinking? I must be a romantic at heart.”
Lizzie stepped close. “Mary, you do not have to do this. You still have time to say you must stay.”
She looked at her sister, so beautiful in her sapphire blue dress, her black ringlets pulled high under her wide-brimmed bonnet. How she would miss her!
Mary caught sight of Papa. He was holding on to Zeke's arm, his silver head lowered. “He looks so old, like he has aged ten years overnight. Family would always win over ships, Lizzie. No, 'tis Barney I love and he feels a calling to go to the New World. I must go. He is my family now, and his boys my sons.”
Reaching out to take Papa's hand, she whispered in his ear, “This shall not be the last time we are together. Jeremy says that I can come back to visitâhe shall be back and forth so often.” If only it were that easy.
She straightened. “I know I have said this a thousand times in the year past, but I want all of you to consider joining us when you can. I want you to see the New World's beauty and abundance for yourself. More than that, I cannot bear to be apart from you.”
“I'm afraid I am too old for such a journey and I could never leave your mother. Who would bring her flowers? Nay, this is my
place. This is where I will stay.” Papa looked back, away from the pier, to the gentle, heather-covered slopes, toward home.
Tears fell as she threw herself into his arms. “I shall miss you.”
“Aye, daughter, there now. Look what I have brought for you. The dolly that Mother made for you. She always made you happy and brought you comfort. Your place is with your husband now, but I wanted you to have something of your childhood. Where is he, by the by?”
Mary took the cloth dolly she had treasured as a little girl and held it close. Its curly yarn hair meant to match her own and the legless body covered with blue cloth and a red heart she had treasured since she was no bigger than Rachel. “He is on the ship. He wanted to see how they stored the casks. We shall have very little in the cabin itself, most of what we bring will be down on the 'tween deck. We shall keep the Bible his father gave him in the cabin, of course, and Jeremy says Barney should keep his old musket there.” She turned toward the ship.
Lilting laughter erupted from a small group of ladies as Barney strode up to them.
“Whatâ? Mary, I thought you said he was on board.” Papa frowned.
“Tsk, I told you, little sister, to take things slowly. You never listen to me. Now he is dragging you across the ocean, away from your family, and look, he's surrounded by fawning females. He needed time before settling down with one woman again. Men always wonderâ” Lizzie stopped herself. “Prithee, forgive me. I should not put such notions in your head.”
Mary hugged the doll tighter. “Nay, he's done on board. Most certainly those ladies are imposing on him. That always happens at the bakeshop. Remember how he loves to chat with the ladies? Nothing has changed. He still enjoys that. 'Tis nothing.”
Zeke moved closer to Mary. “No harm in old Barn saying goodbye to the ladies. He has been their baker for years.”
“How do you know they are not traveling as well?” Her sister's frown matched Papa's.
Barney turned, his eyes meeting Mary's, then darting back to his audience. He made a slight bow of his head to Miss Patience Terry, and turned to join his wife and her family.
Extending his hand first to John, then to Zeke, he thanked them for coming to say goodbye. “This means so much to Mary and to me as well.” He wrapped his arm about her shoulders.
She leaned into him. He was by her side and that was what mattered. Everything would be all right. Would it not?
“Mary, I almost forgot,” Lizzie said. “The girls have something for you. Something we spent the last several months working on. Rachel, Ruth! Come at once.” Her thin voice floated over the din.
The girls gave up their chase of Ben and rushed to their mother's side. Lizzie handed Mary a large basket. Inside she found a stack of carefully hemmed handkerchiefs. Delicate, embroidered red and purple roses decorated each. Layered between the handkerchiefs were sprigs of lavender. Mary held the scented cloth to her nose.
“We know it will be trying on the long voyage. I hope this will ease the stench you no doubt shall endure.”
“Oh, Rach, Ruthie . . . Lizzie. Thank you so very much. I am beyond words. What a thoughtful gift. I will think of you every time I use these. The embroidery is exquisite. They are beautiful.” She looked to Barney and he nodded his approval.
Ben peered into the basket. “Mama, look underneath. Oranges.”
“Yes, there are a few oranges in the bottom and I made some
sugared ginger. Perhaps it will help with the seasickness they say is such a problem.”
“How very generous of you and your family. Thank you again.” Barney gave Lizzie a hug.
“I pray thee to take good care of our Mary, Barnabas. I shall not be there to catch her, as I always have been.”
“Aye.”
John looked him straight in the eye. “I told you she is very strong, but she has a sweet and gentle heart as well. It makes her vulnerable.” His voice caught. “She will always desire to believe the best in you.”
“To be sure, Mary helps me to be a better man. I know that. You have my promise, John. I will take care of your daughter. And Elizabeth, it is now my turn to protect her and that I will do, with God's help. Now stay a moment, my sweet, and let me go ahead to see to our cabin. Jeremy awaits me.” He kissed her forehead.
She watched as he trudged up the plank. He looked eager to begin their journey.
Her gaze followed Barney until he disappeared. “He is a good man and he needs me.” She gently put her doll in the basket with the handkerchiefs and oranges. “I shall send letters with Jeremy and tell you all about the colonies. And, I hope to soon have another grandchild for you, Papa.”
“I await that news eagerly, my girl. I shall miss you greatly, you know that, eh?” He pulled her to him.
“Papa, oh please do not cry. I do know that, and I shall miss you terribly.” She put her arms around him as his trembling arms wrapped about her shoulders.
Lizzie moved toward them, loud, anguished sobs escaping, and they brought her into the embrace. “I wish you could stay.”
Barney's voice resonated above the milling crowd, calling the children to gather. Mary dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief as she broke away from Lizzie's embrace and gathered her nieces and nephew to her.
A familiar elderly couple made their way toward them. Grandfather and Grandmother Horton pushed through the crowd. How sad they looked. How hard it must be to lose yet another son to that vast unknown. She joined her husband as he greeted them.
“Father, MotherâI worried you might not make it here before we embarked.” He gave the Horton bear hug to both parents at once, kissing his mother on both cheeks. He pulled back and shook his father's hand.
Grandfather Horton held tight. He lifted his walking stick and pressed it into his hand. “This is for you, son. I have used it a good many years and it has helped me walk tall and straight. It's yours now, to take to that New World.”
Barney turned the stick over in his hand, running his fingers over the ivory head. He traced his father's initials,
J.H.
, and looked from his father to his mother.
“Your mother gave it to me as a gift, one that I have treasured. She wants you to have it now, son. We both want you to have it.”
“Father, I shall always strive to live up to your example. Thank you, Mother. I know this is difficult, but you both have always shown me support, even when you disagreed.”
Grandmother Horton's eyes were wet as she turned to Mary. “Jeremy will keep us in touch. Prithee, write to us often. You are a good wife to our son. You are always in our prayers.” Her words sounded broken, a reflection of her heart.
The grandparents bent to say farewell to Jay and Ben, a mo
ment so tender and heart wrenching, Mary wondered if Barney could watch. He could not.
Grandfather Horton tucked a small, carved horse in each of the boys' pockets and turned to embrace Mary. “You will take good care of them, I know.”
“This is difficult, but it is time to board. This does not have to be a final farewell. Lord be willing, we will all be together again. Come, Joseph, Benjamin, say your goodbyes and then we must take our leave.” Barnabas clapped his father on the back and gave his mother one last kiss.
The boys, with tearstained faces, hugged their step-cousins and kissed Aunt Lizzie goodbye. They grabbed Mary's hands once more and turned toward the ship that would take them far, far away.
Mary's heart ached and she felt she had no breath as they walked up to the ship. Walk. Just put one foot in front of the other. One step at a time. You can do this. The Lord would help her do this. She squeezed Jay's and Ben's hands until they both looked up at her. She hoped her nod was reassuring.