The Old Cape House (9 page)

Maria weighed the Indian’s words for only seconds before she answered, “I’ll go. My father is going to Barnstable for business so he’ll be gone for several days.”

Happy that they were both going to visit Abigail Doane, Minda fondly recalled when she had first met Abigail. As a child, she had taken trips from Cambridge to North Harwich with Widow Jackson to visit Abigail’s mother. Being similar in age, the two young girls,
Minda and Abigail, had become fast friends and kept their
friendship
over the years. Maria had developed a strong bond with the two
women, who both appreciated her beautiful weaving talents.

As they stood on the beach, Maria hugged Minda goodbye, suggesting they meet at the house when the sun was high above their
heads, after her father leaves for Barnstable. Matthew Ellis, from the
neighboring farm, would help her get the horse and wagon ready for their trip west to Abigail’s. Maria knew Matthew would never say
no to her.

Maria hurried along the path. Mindful that she was only
wearing her shift and shawl, she ran faster, not wanting to be seen by anyone. As the sun heated her skin, she began to perspire. By the time she arrived home, she was dripping wet.

She placed a clean shift and skirt into a small sack and
prayerfully thanked her mother that her father was already gone. He would have been angry with her for not fixing his breakfast.

She went outside to raise the green flag on a pole that topped the roofline of her house. It signaled to Matthew that she needed him to get the wagon ready. This was a game they had played when they were younger, pretending to be sea captains on the high seas, using colored pieces of material to signal messages back and forth. Now that they were older, they occasionally played the signal game, even though their elders frowned upon this silliness, expecting them to be more mature. She trusted that he would see her signal.

Surprised to see the flag, Matthew was more than pleased to accept Maria’s request. He stopped splitting wood, set aside his axe and walked towards the Hallett home.

Meanwhile, Maria brought water from the well into the house
and set it down on top of her bureau. After dropping her soiled
garment onto the bed, she withdrew a bottle of Minda’s lavender water from inside a drawer. Into the cool water, she sprinkled two drops. Then, she took a deep breath, letting the wonderful scent calm her.

After bathing, Maria patted herself dry and reached for a fresh shift hanging on a peg under the stairs. It slipped over her head with ease. She pulled a corset from the bottom drawer of the bureau, placed it over her cotton shift and laced up the front, being careful not to pull it too tight across her stomach. Next came her drawstring petticoat. As she tied the strings that held her skirt she realized that she would be able to adjust her skirts to accommodate the child as it grows. Her thoughts surprised her; she sat down on the bed. She closed her eyes and tried to listen to the voice inside her that Minda spoke of. Maria squeezed her eyelids together, trying to listen to her thoughts and feelings. Her hands moved over her stomach. Her next words almost sounded like a prayer. “I think I will keep this child. I know that Sam loves me. I trust him. When he returns, he’ll take care of me, and this little one inside me too.”

Her decision made, she felt better. With determination to move forward with her choice, Maria continued dressing, pinning a pocket to her petticoat and then smoothing it flat. She felt joyful at the thought of bearing Sam’s child.

A second petticoat was laid over the first and fastened in the
front with long pins. It had a large slit to its side for access to the pocket, hiding it from view. She hid a shilling for an emergency. Chanting her words now, she repeated, “I’m going to have Sam’s child.”

Maria moved with lighthearted steps to the bureau and chose one of her better handkerchiefs to go around her neckline, tucking it in across the top of the corset. She felt confident Sam would return before the birth. She folded her apron into the carrying basket, in case she needed it when they arrived at Abigail’s house.

She could hear Matthew in the barn preparing the wagon. As he brought the wagon closer to the house, Maria relieved herself in the jar under her bed instead of going outside one more time before they left. Lifting her skirts, she looked down and noticed she wore no shoes or stockings. She giggled to herself and thought that being with child must make women do silly things. She scooped up the basket that held her apron and placed Abigail’s new woven cloth inside, along with biscuits wrapped in a piece of cotton plus her shoes and stockings. As she grabbed her cap hanging by the door, Maria glanced over at her unmade bed and promised herself that she would empty the bed jar when she got home.

Early summer 1715

NORTH HARWICH – CAPE COD

MATTHEW HELPED MARIA INTO THE WAGON.
As he touched her hand, he looked at her face and thought how beautiful she was, there was such a glow about her. “Be careful now,” he said.

Maria joined Minda on the wagon’s worn wooden seat and placed her basket in the back. “We will. And thank you, Matthew, for hitching up ‘Old Brother’. See you in a few days.”

He stepped away from the wagon as Minda gave a clicking sound and flipped the leather reins up and across the horse’s back. Old Brother trotted off down the path that led to the dirt cart-way.

The rough old wagon cradled them as they passed through familiar landscapes. When they approached the deforested land of the King’s Highway, Minda pulled back on the reins to stop Old
Brother. “So many fine-looking trees are gone Maria. I cannot
understand why your people take not only our lands but our forests too. We are left with so little. My heart weeps for what will become of us and your children yet to be.”

Maria had no words of consolation. There was nothing either
one of them could do.

The landscape looked so barren to Minda, she closed her
thoughts about something she could not change and looked over at the young
Maria. “You seem better, not so nervous. I think that you have
decided to become a mother.”

Maria held her head down, looked sideways towards Minda, smiled and nodded yes. The old woman covered Maria’s hands with her own, gently squeezing them as a comfortable silence fell over the two friends.

They traveled for hours before they came to the Namaskaket
lands and finally to the North Parish of Harwich. They could see Abigail from the road as they came over the crest of the hill; she was sitting under a large oak tree next to the house. Her new home was nearly
finished with only trim remaining. Abigail spotted the wagon and
waved at them with a weak sway of her hand.

Minda took notice of Abigail’s demeanor and hoped she was feeling better.

A widow from Yarmouth, Abigail was forty-two years old and
enjoyed being the second wife of fifty-three-year old Nathanial
Doane. When Nathaniel surprised his bride with plans for a new dwelling
farther east, she didn’t mind the move. She looked contentedly
around her property and thought it was advantageous that Nathaniel had inherited this land in the Namaskaket area from his father, one of the ‘Purchasers’ or ‘Old Comers’. The happy bride felt comforted with
the thought of how endearing Nathaniel was because he was so
worried about her health. Yes, it was bothersome to her that her stamina and
well-being was causing some concern, but Nathaniel reassured
Abigail that his wedding gift of a new dwelling would cheer her up and be
good for her. She sat in front of her promised new house, enjoying the shade from the lone tree above her head, waiting for her guests to arrive.

The two travelers pulled alongside the large tree. Minda called out
,
“I am glad you are getting fresh air, Abigail, my friend.”

Maria jumped out of the wagon, straightened her skirts and greeted Abigail with a hug. “Wait till you see what I’ve brought you. I know you’ll like it.” She lifted her things out of the wagon just as
Jacob took Old Brother into the barn for oats, water and a night of
rest.

Abigail looked tired but eager to visit with her friends and
reached out to both of them. Laughing, with arms around one another, they walked into the house.

The raised threshold of the simple full cape or ‘double’ house greeted them; it led to a narrow staircase that ascended upstairs. Abigail, being first inside, moved to the right and into the kitchen. Maria looked at the two windows that faced front and then glanced back at the large center chimney fireplace. She ran her hand over the thick smooth wood of the long table and placed her basket next to a small jar of spring flowers. Two long benches ran along each side of the table, and shelves opposite the hearth held cooking utensils,
bowls, spices and various condiments. She thought to herself that
when Sam returns, he had promised her riches, and this is the kind of house that she would like.

Minda peered into the borning room in the rear of the kitchen. It was small but adequate for birthing and for anyone who might become sick. She nodded her approval, thinking it was good to be so close to the kitchen in times of tending.

Abigail gestured to the two travelers. “Come, let me show you the rest of my house.”

Minda placed her arm around Abigail and rubbed her back.
“Your house is good.”

On the other side of Abigail’s kitchen was the parlor, where the
single center chimney opened to another large hearth. Maria
admired two winged chairs and a small folding table, where guests would be entertained. To the rear of the parlor was the master bedroom for Abigail and Nathanial. Following Abigail into the room, she stared at a large four-poster bed with soft, green velvet curtains tied back around each post. “What beautiful fabric, Abigail.” Maria stroked the luxurious curtains.

“Aren’t they wonderful?” Abigail asked. “They keep Nathaniel and I warm from drafts.” Abigail smiled as she touched the green material. “I chose them for their color; when I wake up in the morning I feel as if I’m sleeping outside under the trees.”

As the two friends trailed behind their gracious hostess, Abigail apologized for the sparse furnishings in the other rooms. Maria didn’t mind; she thought the house was cozy. She liked the simple jars of water holding little flowers that Abigail had placed around the rooms; it was so welcoming.

“Most of my treasures have not yet arrived from Boston,”
Abigail added, beaming with pride. She walked over to the stairway and pointed upstairs, “That’s where you will be spending the night. Go on up, don’t mind me.”

Abigail settled herself on the bench in the kitchen to catch her breath. Smelling the little bouquet of flowers on the table she called out to her friends, “I’m a little tired. Hestor will soon be here to fix dinner for us.”

There were two small rooms upstairs; one on the right was
washed a soft green and the room on the left had a light blue tint on its walls. Maria favored the blue room with its little bed covered in a matching
blue and white coverlet. Before sitting, she checked under the
bedding
and noticed how it was tied. “Very strong and tight,” she said,
giving her approval. She sat down and placed her hands on either side of her body. Bouncing up and down, she called out, “Oh this will do.” She jumped up and walked across to the other room. “Minda, how’s your bed?”

The green room was in disarray.

“Minda! “Where are you?”

Over by the window, she saw that Minda had placed blankets on the floor between the bed and the wall under the window. She was lying on top of them.

“I am making sure it is right, so I can sleep tonight.” Minda
smoothed the pretty green quilt with her hand, shaping it into a nest. Then, as if this was normal behavior for her to be on the floor, she looked at
Maria and asked, “Shall we go find Abigail? I am sure she needs
help.”

Maria agreed, ignoring her dear friend’s strange Indian ways,
following her down the steep steps into the kitchen.

Hestor had already arrived with a simple stew she’d cooked
overnight at her house and was stirring it over the fire in the kitchen hearth. Nathanial had hired Hestor, a local woman, whose family had encountered difficult times recently. He knew she needed extra money and would help Abigail with the cooking and various chores around the house. A portly, round faced woman, Hestor spoke few words, but always did what she was told. Although the housekeeper was not much of a companion to Abigail, Nathanial thought it useful to have someone look after his wife while he was away at sea. As the two women entered the kitchen Abigail introduced them.

Hestor looked up from her stirring, gave them a look up and
down,
rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Yes, Mum”. She
returned to her chores without any other acknowledgment of the
guests.

Minda felt uneasy with this cold reception and took the blame to
herself. It had happened before, many times, as she traveled to
places outside her Nauset home. The memories of King Phillip’s War, four decades ago, still echoed with anger and distrust of the Indians who lived within the colonies.

Abigail sensed the tension. She thanked Hestor and instructed her to leave. “We’ll be fine for tonight. See you tomorrow.”

Hestor answered, “Yes, Mum.” Gathering her things together,
she muttered something about ‘those savages’ and slammed the rear door of the house.

Maria got up from the bench and looked out the window to see
Hestor’s large behind, covered with layers of skirts, swaying from
side to side as she walked away. “Good riddance. How can you stand her Abigail? Doesn’t she ever smile? I hope her stew is better than her manners.” Maria gave the steaming kettle a quick stir and the hearty smells drifted into her nose. “Well, I must admit, it smells good.”