Melchy
Mother's Day Legacy
Rating: G
These characters do not belong to me but do let me take them out once in a while and then put them back. They belong to 20th Century Fox.
She found it in the deep recesses of the bookshelf. It was leather-bound and dusty, the yellowed pages beginning to curl. She ran a hand across the cover, still smooth even after years of neglect. The corner held a pair of engraved letters in a faded gold script – CN.
Curious as ever, Carolyn Muir opened the book, her eyes falling on the perfect copperplate writing of a century ago. Her eyes were drawn to the first line which made her sit down in amazement. 'I pray every day that he believes I am worth his hard earned money.' "What is this?" she asked the empty room.
Flipping gently through the brittle pages, she found several references to the New England Coastline, the building of a house and the building of a relationship. Leaping to the first page Carolyn saw the date at the top was:
12, Dec. 1823
'I still cannot believe that I saw the billet nor that I am actually considering it. I can see the wording as clearly as if I were still standing on the docks right below it. Wanted: Healthy Irish females between the ages of 16-25. Passage to America paid in full with signed agreement to become the wife of American Frontiersman. What a revolting idea! It makes us sound like chattel willing to sign our lives away for a mere journey across the sea. So, why do I feel that this might be the answer to my prayers?
Carolyn's eyes automatically went on the next entry, drawn to the words.
14, Dec. 1823
Moira tells me this morning that she is going. She signed the contract yesterday and will sail in a fortnight. "I do not want to spend the rest of my life scrubbing floors for other people. It is all I can do here. At least in America I would scrub my own floors," her brown eyes were so content it frightened me. "But what about the price?" I asked her. "Marriage to a man you don't know? A marriage without love?" She took hold of my hands and sighed. "It is not like we have it so much better here." And deep down in my heart, I know that she is right.
17 Dec. 1823
'Tis past midnight but I cannot sleep from the excitement and worry of it all. I have decided in the morning I am going down the stationmaster's to sign the contract. I will be leaving for America in less than a week and shortly after arrival I will become a married woman. Moira is going to place called Ohio, she found out today, to a farmer named Thomas Boone. According to his application he is 35 and tall with dark hair and has a 12 and 15-year-old. Moria is only 17 herself, as I am, but she is not afraid. I wish I could say the same!
18 Dec. 1823
I signed the papers and have the ticket in my satchel along with Mam's wedding ring and Pap's watch. Instead of going into the factory I made the trek out to Village Glenn and visited their graves, long since neglected. I told them that I would always love them but that I felt I was doing the right thing in going to America in such a manner. "I am not expecting to be happy or to love him. I just want to do better." I told them. I hope I have your blessing and will make you proud of me some day.
As I walked the six miles back to the city I thought of my existence day after day making rope for the many shipyards that are located here and wondering if it were actually an existence. I tried to imagine what life in America will be like and wondering if I would ever see a ship or the ocean again. Perhaps I too will be baking bread in a place called Ohio, for a man I do not know. A man who would become my life. As Moira pointed out to me, I can read and write a bonus for any man and mayhap I will be given to a kind man. If I cannot hope for love, I will be satisfied with that.
25 Dec. 1823
Moira and I have exchanged gifts and were delighted to find that we will be sailing for America on the same ship. We will be joined by Lettie McNamara, a pretty blonde who is going to Ohio as well and will be wed to a Minster there. She laughed as she tossed her curls and drank deep of her ale. "Imagine me a minister's wife!" We are becoming more boisterous as the day of departure draws nearer to hide our nervousness. I've packed my one bag, I am allowed to take. I wish the day would arrive. Happy Christmas.
27 Dec. 1823
I am going to New England, to a place called Schooner Bay. He is a fisherman and his name is Joseph Gregg. Cassiday Aileen Nolan Gregg. The thought fills me with fear.
Carolyn snapped the book shut, holding it against her chest, her breath slowly exhaling. 'She must have been the Captain's mother,' she thought to herself. 'And this is her diary.' Once more Carolyn opened the pages and flipped ahead a few pages. The writing was the same, but seemed to lack the same boldness as before.
24 Jan. 1824
This voyage will never end. I am so tired of the rocking ship and the sound of the waves against the hull and the closeness of the air in our very small cabin. At least Lettie has become like a sister to Moria and me, of course making it all the harder when we must part. Moira and I have known one another since we were five and to say good-bye to her now, pains me as much as saying hello to my new life. I shall miss her more than I can imagine. From talking to the second mate we have found out that Ohio is quite far from where I will be. He says it is in the American west and is filled with Indians and other hardships. Moira says she does not care but I can tell she is afraid.
29 Jan, 1824
Nicholas, the second mate, assures us that the journey is more than halfway over and we should be arriving in New York before we know it. The closer we are to the American shore, the more nervous I become. "What kind of man would take a wife from an advertisement?" I asked Nicholas last night as he showed me a school of fish off the bow. "I imagine a man who is very lonely," was his only answer. I will miss him when I dock in New York, he has been very kind to 'us gals' as he calls us.
17 Feb, 1824
I am now in America. I thought my sailing days would be over once I entered New York Harbor but I was sorely mistaken. After one night in the city where we were given fresh clothing and a warm meal, we were told to report to the station manager the next day. Moira and Lettie were given train tickets and both have left for Ohio. I wish them well and miss them already. Moria says we must find a way to keep in touch and that if Thomas is a nice man mayhap he will help her. I hope for her sake that he is. I am on a much smaller ship with the name of the Sea Spirit. The Captain assured me we would arrive in Schooner Bay in about three weeks time! Three more weeks to wonder what I may have gotten myself into.
"The poor thing!" Carolyn felt tears welling in her eyes. "And only seventeen years' old." Entranced, she ignored her growling stomach and turned to the next page.
20 Feb. 1824
Captain Fairbanks has been most kind, allowing me to dine with him and his first mate. He tells me that I could not have picked a fairer place than Schooner Bay and that the Gregg family is well respected albeit wild. "But fair," he assured me. "Very fair." He doesn't know Joseph but knows his father Elias quite well. Although I know they will never be sent I write to Moira every day. I miss her so much; she has been my family since we were 12. Why could I have not gone to Ohio?
2 Mar. 1824
God has set the wind on our side and the Captain says we should arrive in Schooner Bay before nightfall. My hands are turning sweaty at the thought and my heart is racing. I wonder if Joseph Gregg will be there to greet me? Please God let him like me.
10 Mar. 1824
This is the first time I have had a chance to write since my arrival in Schooner Bay and I am not sure where to begin. So, I think I will start with Joseph himself. He is tall, well over 6 feet (I am only 5'3) with warm blue eyes and a heedful of red curls that he tries to tame with no results. He was there to meet me looking quite magnificent in a black suit coat and I couldn't help but notice a clean shirt. He took my hand as I came to the end of the gangplank and smiled, making my heart race for an entirely different reason than before. "Hallo Cassiday Aileen Nolan," he said in a voice almost as wonderful as he looked.
"Hello Joseph Gregg." I said softly, afraid to look him in the eye. Very gently he lifted my face to his and gave me another smile. "'Tis fine," he said with a hint of an Irish brogue. "We shall be fine together." We walked in silence to the Schooner Bay Inn. A place so new you can still smell the wood and the paint.
"I've arranged for you to have a room where you can take a bath and freshen up." Joseph took my hands in his. "We have an appointment with Rev. Baker at 8:00." I nodded, trying not to look surprised that we were not being married by a priest. He leaned down and kissed my cheek and said he would come to get me when it was time.
I was shown to a room with a beautiful view of the bay, the boy staring at me as though I had grown an additional head. I couldn't help but wonder why such a handsome man as Joseph Gregg would need to order a bride from Ireland.
The room was laid out for my arrival. A small tea was set in the corner, a hot bath was waiting for me and much to my surprise a dress of the softest material, I'd ever felt, white decorated with blue flowers.
I was more than nervous when he arrived around 7:30, wearing a black suit, his hair carefully combed. He did not look nervous and I was most envious. Walking in silence, we arrived at the church where I became Mrs. Joseph Gregg. After we had said our vows and he had slipped a silver wedding band on my finger, we walked back to the Inn and had a late supper. Then he took my hand and we went back to the room where I truly became Mrs. Joseph Gregg.
11 Mar. 1824
Our house is small but nice and is near the ocean. It sets on the outskirts of town and is graced by a white picket fence, just a novel I read once. I am learning rather quickly how to be a fisherman's wife. Already I have aided in mending nets, cleaning fish and helping him launch the boat in the very gray mornings. I would love to go along with him, but he says women on board ships bring bad luck. He is usually home by 4:00 in the afternoon and in that time we talk while he rests by the fire with his pipe and I prepare dinner. Joseph is a well-read man and to my joy has many books he has sent to Boston and Philadelphia for. One day I shall ask him why he has taken a wife in this way, but not now.
Carolyn closed the book once more, reluctant to stop reading but knowing she shouldn't. It almost felt like an invasion of Cassiday Gregg's private thoughts. She tried to conjure the woman in her mind from her own description. She had been a petite woman with gray eyes and one of the entries had something about her face being covered with freckles. Carolyn wondered if the Captain knew of this diary's existence and why it had been crammed here among his books on navigation that he had collected over time. Not being able to resist, she opened the slim journal once more.
15 May 1824
Spring is here in Schooner Bay and the whole world it seems is filled with flowers. They have some plants and shrubs that I have never seen before and each walk is like an adventure. Joseph has given me a small piece of ground in the back, where I have planted a small vegetable garden and he has allowed me to plant flowers anywhere I choose. He has asked me to freshen up the place as he put it, so I have put up new curtains and even bought a new rug at the General Store the other day. He was quite pleased with it. I am enjoying being here with Joseph and I must admit I do not miss the factory or the rooming house or even Ireland. I do miss Moira.
1 June 1824
Elias Gregg arrived home last week. He was a ship builder, which I find to be quite strange since I worked in the shipyards for three years before coming here. Elias, as he insists I call him, worked here in Schooner Bay until five years ago. When the company moved elsewhere he decided that since his children were grown he would take time to explore the world. Because he had a part in building many of the ships that pass through here and is acquainted with many of the captain's he is free to travel where he wishes most of the time. In the evenings he tells us stories of his wanderings and the marvelous things he has seen. I asked Joseph the other night, after we were in bed, if he had ever felt the desire to see the world as his father does. "No, Cass." He laughed. "I am more than content to stay in my own waters and catch fish. I think the wanderlust skips a generation." After he kissed me and fell asleep, I stayed awake quite a while praying that if we have children, they will all be girls.
4 July 1824
America's Independence Day. This is the first time since my arrival I have felt like part of the community A lovely woman by the name of Eliza Peavy came to the house asking if I would like to make something for the annual celebration. I made two meat pies and a chocolate cake with some coca that Elias had brought home with him. There was not one bite left. I had never seen so much food in my life! Three tables in the middle of the square groaning with food. Besides Eliza Peavy, I met Alice Coolidge, Valentine Figg and Sarah Tuttle. Except for Alice they are all about my age and most newly married. It was most enjoyable exchanging recipes, talking about our husbands and eating each other's food. For the first time I didn't feel as though people were staring at me because I was the "mail order bride" After dark they shot off fireworks over the water and Joseph took me in his arms and said he had become quite fond of me. A perfect day.
17 Aug. 1824
I am with child. Eliza told me I was two weeks ago but I didn't believe her. But now I know it is true. I can't deny it, and I am starting to become excited. I wonder what Joseph will say?
28 Aug. 1824
He picked me up and spun me around in his arms. He says if it is a girl I may name it whatever I wish. If it is a boy, he wants to name him after his father and grandfather. Elias Alexander. 'Tis not a bad name.
Carolyn couldn't help but smile at Cassiday's assessment of the name. The clock chimed 3:00, and she knew the kids would be home in less than an hour. And she hadn't gotten anything else done today. Laying the journal down on the end table she started to get up, and then not able to resist picked it up and flipped a few pages ahead.
1 Jan. 1825
I almost lost Joseph today! Even to my eyes the water looked more dangerous than usual, but he insisted that he must make a catch today. "Our cash reserves are already low due to Christmas and the bad catches we've had lately. I'll be fine Cassiday, do not concern yourself."
So despite my begging he took the "Gull Cryer" out and if it had not been for Mr. Coolidge and Mr. Gilbert, Joseph would have lost a lot more than his boat. They rescued him at a peril to their own lives. When they brought him to the house, looking so white, I figured he was dead. But they laid him on the bed and told me to go visit Constance or Alice. It was the worst afternoon of my life so far. When I saw Joseph sitting in his favorite chair, I didn't care who saw, and held his head close to my breast and kissed him.
2 Jan. 1825
Last night as we laid in bed, Joseph told me he loved me. And I realized that I loved him as well. After we had made love, despite my ever-growing body, I asked him why he had chosen a bride as he had. "Any woman would be proud to have married you. I can tell by the way they watch you."
"Cass," he said, playing with my red curls. "When I couldn't have the woman I wanted I decided any woman would do. And to my surprise I've ended up with the woman I wanted." Snuggling down against him, I fell asleep, feeling content for the first time in my life.
8 Apr. 1825
This afternoon I gave birth to a healthy nine-pound boy with his father's eyes and hair and my nose. He is a demanding lad already after only six hours of being in this world. But now he is laying beside me, his eyes closed, his perfect mouth puckered in sleep, his hands curling upwards. He is my son – mine and Joseph's son, and he will be a great man someday. I called him Elias when Eliza laid him in my arms but Joseph shook his head. "No, Cass, Elias doesn't suit him. He needs a name that commands authority." I don't know about authority, but I instantly named him Daniel. My Daniel. I don't know what is ahead for my sweet boy beyond this moment, but I pray that I will be a good mother to him.
8 May 1825
I wish there was a way I could hold this moment forever. Today our son was christened in his father's gown. When the cold water touched his forehead, he told the minister exactly what he thought about it. As Rev. Baker said the prayer and dedicated the life of Daniel Elias Alexander Gregg to God, I held Joseph's hand and asked God to help us to raise him, as I should. I know that as his mother, I am highly opinionated, but I know that his boy will be a great man someday. I pray that he will be content with his life and will find his heart's desire. And that he will be as proud to be Daniel Gregg as I am he is. My sweet Danny.
Carolyn flipped through some of the remaining pages, seeing the journal ended on Jan 26 of the following year. What happened? She wondered. Are there other journals as well or did something happen and this was Cassiday's last entry? She wanted to find out, would need to find out. But for now, she would lay this where Captain Gregg would be sure to find it. She had a feeling he would want this. What a beautiful legacy for a son on Mother's Day!