CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

And their prayer offered in faith will heal the sick, and the Lord will make them well.

(James 5:14)

 

On the morning of May 2nd, I was braiding Elizabeth’s hair, when a worried Sarah Osgood approached me. Like me, Mrs. Osgood was traveling alone with her children. They hailed from Hampshire and were bound for Newbury. She was nearing thirty, very pretty, but tired looking and wane from the long voyage.

“Goody Keeney, might I speak with you in private?”

“Why, yes, of course. Elizabeth, why don’t you see if Aunt Agnes will finish your hair?” I sent her off with a pat and turned to Mrs. Osgood. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“It’s my William, he’s sick. Very weak, with blue spots on his breast. Do you think tis the pox?”

This news worried me. Smallpox was very virulent and could spread like wildfire aboard a ship.

“Let’s have a look at him, shall we?” I followed her back to their group of bunks, where I found little William lying on his pallet flush with fever. Lifting his sweat-soaked shirt, I discovered his chest covered with the tell-tale purplish-blue dots. Immediately, I turned to his mother.

“Yes, tis the pox, Sarah. I’m sorry. I’ll need to inform the captain. But first, we need to isolate him to try to keep the infection from spreading.”

“Is he going to die?”

“I don’t know, Sarah. He’s in God’s hands.”

“And yours, Goody Keeney. I know you’re a capable healer. I saw what you did to save poor Goody Stephens when she lost her babe a few days ago. If anyone can save my William, you can.”

“Thank you for your confidence, but as I said your son is in God’s hands. Bundle your son up and take him topside. I’ll see Captain Jabson now and find out where he wishes us to quarantine him.”

The news that smallpox had invaded his ship brought a look of horror to the captain’s face. If there was any trace of the disease on board, the ship would not be allowed to dock in Salem. Taking charge, he had William Osgood moved into the front hold of the ship, instructing the lad’s mother to remain with him at all times, since she had also been exposed to the disease.

“What about you, Mrs. Keeney? Have you had the bloody thing?”

“No, Captain, but someone needs to help the lad, if he is to be saved. I’ve never treated smallpox before, but I’ve seen what it does to the body of those who survive. Little William, should he live, will be scarred for life.” What I was unable to tell the captain, who would surely have eased his mind, was that I had been vaccinated for smallpox, as well as a number of other childhood diseases, while in grade school back in the future. I would be protected from infection.

“Well, you know the risks, madam. If you feel you must treat the boy, you have my permission. But I cannot allow you to have the run of the ship. You also must remain with the boy and his mother. Anymore cases will be brought to you in the hold.”

“I understand, Captain. We must do everything possible to keep this from spreading.”

But, little William Osgood was only the beginning. Before it was over, 16 passengers and two crewmen became infected. They were all brought to me for treatment. Only two of my patients died, including a blasphemous seaman, who screamed and railed at God as he passed, for giving him the disease. William Osgood, however, survived, albeit badly scarred about the face and chest. Just in case, I examined myself daily for signs of the malady, but none ever appeared. I thanked God for His helping hand in treating the sick and for the strength and knowledge that He had given me to do the work. I also thanked Him for impressing it upon Dr. Savage to give me the medical bag containing additional herbs and medicines, for had I not had them I’d been sore pressed to treat the epidemic, as I lacked many of them in my own herb store.

Three weeks after its first appearance, I was able to inform Captain Jabson that the disease had run its course. No new infections had been seen in nearly a week. That Sunday’s services were a sweet invocation of praise for a kind and generous God.

 

*************

 

In the early afternoon, three days after the cessation of the smallpox epidemic, the passengers were called topside. It took some time for all of us to climb the ladders from our various accommodations.

“I wonder why we’re being called up there?” Agnes asked, looking at me, while we waited behind the Peter Noyce family.

“I have no idea. Perhaps it concerns the smallpox epidemic. I’ve had no word from the captain of anything being amiss.” Since the epidemic, Captain Jabson had taken to meeting with me daily to check on the passengers’ conditions and states of health. He also had taken to questioning me as to whether there were any needs that required his action. Despite his gruff manner, he appeared to me at that time to be a kind man. Eventually, I was to get a wake-up call about just how stern a sea captain could be.

When we finally reached the deck, a horrible sight greeted us. Firmly tied to the cap-stem and completely naked, stood Joseph Taynter, Nicholas Guy’s servant. My hand went immediately to my mouth, stifling a gasp. I saw many more like me, as I glanced around at the crowd gathered there. When the mumbling quieted down, Captain Jabson stepped forward, raising his left hand for silence. I noticed that he was holding a rather odd-looking whip in his right hand. It appeared to be made of rough leather strips which were gathered together into a large handle. At the end of each strip was tied a thin slice of sharp stone.

“What is that thing?” I whispered to no one in particular.

“It’s a cat-o-nine-tails,” Arthur and Jeremy said in unison, startling me.

“How do you know?” I asked them.

“Because Grandfather had one. I saw it hanging in his office at home.”

“I know because I was whipped with one just before coming to Scrooby, Mrs. Keeney,” Jeremy whispered.

“Oh, Arthur, I can’t imagine your grandfather ever using something like that. Are you certain?”

“Yes, Mother, I’m sure that’s what it was. But maybe that’s why it was hanging in his office—he didn’t use it.”

Captain Jabson again signaled for silence. “I’ve called you all here this afternoon to bear witness to what happens to thieves aboard this ship. Mr. Traynter, here,” he said, nodding toward the man in question, “has stolen nine lemons from the chirurgeon’s cabin. Now I know that to many of you nine lemons seems a trivial thing. But, to seamen, lemons are a vital necessity in the prevention of scurvy, and are nearly as valuable as gold.

“I could, very well, have Mr. Guy standing in this man’s place for negligence in permitting his servant to have such free rein that he could do something like this; but I shall refrain from that, being a fair man. I should warn you, however, that the punishment Mr. Traynter is to receive may offend our delicate ladies.” At this, many of the ladies let out slight shrieks.

“However…….HOWEVER!!” Captain Jabson shouted with a booming voice, regaining control of the crowd, “I demand that everyone—and I mean everyone—shall see this, so that no one is tempted to try this kind of act again aboard my ship.”

I glanced at Mr. Traynter and saw that he was biting his lip in fearful anticipation. I didn’t want my children to witness what I knew must surely be coming, but I really had no choice. Captain Jabson had said— everyone was to watch.

The captain stepped up behind Mr. Traynter and drew back his powerful arm—an arm used to steer his ship through waters, rough and calm—and brought the whip to bear on the naked back of the thief. With the first stripe, the skin of Mr. Traynter’s back was sliced to the bone and the blood flowed freely, staining his legs. By the time Captain Jabson had delivered the tenth blow, Mr. Traynter’s body was a mass of hanging flesh and the deck of the Confidence was running red. Several of the ladies, including Agnes, had fainted, and I found myself equally appalled and shaken. Gorging bile rose up within my throat, threatening to spill from my mouth, and I held onto the nearest stack of roping for support. Bright little stars were dancing before my eyes. Lizzie and Mary were visibly weeping and Mrs. Guy, a small, pale-faced woman, was retching over the side.

When it was finally over, and the passengers silently returned to their cabins, I noticed several ladies lifting their skirts to avoid the blood that was pooling on the deck. As I was about to descend the ladder, with Agnes in tow, Nicholas Guy approached me. He was a short, squat man, with coal-black, bushy hair. His hawk-like nose gave him a cruel countenance.

“Goodwife Keeney.” I turned to face him.

“Yes, Mr. Guy. What can I do for you?”

“Would you be so kind as to tend to my servant’s wounds? I know you are a capable healer. He will be in a bad way for a while.”

That was quite an understatement—Mr. Traynter could very well die from the fever that would follow such wounds.

“Certainly, Mr. Guy, I’ll tend to him. Arthur, you and Lizzie see that Agnes gets away from here and has some water to drink.”

Without even a thank-you, Mr. Guy turned and left me standing on the deck. I had the unconscious servant taken to the empty cabin I’d used as a sickroom during the smallpox epidemic, and went below to fetch my medical chest. The sailors laid him on his stomach, while I prepared a solution of several herbs that would dull the pain, prevent infection and promote healing. Bandaging his back loosely with linen strips, I sat back and wiped the perspiration from my forehead. This poor man will be fortunate to survive this, I thought. And Captain Jabson went down a notch on my scale of admiration.

It took four days of constant care, but Mr. Traynter did survive his ordeal. The worst part, besides the initial fever, was removing the bandages each day, for the scabs always came off with them and the bleeding would begin again. Sometimes Joseph, as he insisted I call him, fainted from the pain. Gradually, however, he healed, and soon the incident was behind me and I could return to my little family below decks. The Lord had a purpose in it all, however, for I was able to lead Joseph to Christ while he recuperated.

 

*************

 

A week later, on May 20th, Agnes and I stood at the rail watching a huge, dark shadow on the water off the starboard side. It was our little group’s turn to be topside, which was a welcome respite from the closeness of the hold.

“What is that?” Agnes asked, squinting her eyes. “It appears to be just floating out there.”

“I can’t imagine what it could be,” I replied, shading my eyes from the afternoon sun, trying to see clearly. “But it seems to be coming closer to us.”

“Let’s go over to the other side and see if there are any spots there.”

The sea was a little choppy, but having been aboard now for several weeks, we had gained our “sea legs” and were able to cross the deck quite steadily. Peering over the leeward railing, we searched the sea for more shadows, but saw none.

“It has to be under the water,” Agnes said. “Maybe a fish or something.”

“Perhaps,” I said. I had the idea that it was a whale.

Just as we turned from the railing, the ship suddenly reared up on its side, throwing me against the railing and Agnes over the side into the churning water below. I heard myself screaming her name over and over, but there was no sign of her.

“Help! Help!” I screamed. “Someone help me! She can’t swim!”

From the crow’s nest some thirty feet above me, I heard Henry Tibbets yelling at the top of his lungs: “Man overboard! Man overboard!”

Sailors came from every direction, peering over the side. Suddenly, a body streaked by me and dove into the water. When he finally surfaced, I realized it was Jeremy Tibbets. But I didn’t see Agnes anywhere. However, I did see the dark, shape moving away from the ship.

“Tis a whale, ma’am,” a sailor on my left side said, confirming my suspicions. “He must’ve hit us broadside and tipped the ship.”

His words hardly registered. My mind was reeling, my eyes were straining to catch even the smallest glimpse of Agnes. Holy Lord, please save her! I pleaded. Jeremy dove under the water two more times. On the third try, he came up with Agnes in tow and a cheer arose from the sailors and passengers, who lined the railing. One of the sailors threw Jeremy a line and he tied it about the waist of a slump and unconscious Agnes.

Gripping the tail end in both hands, he hung on while the sailors of the Confidence hauled him hand-over-hand to the deck. As soon as his feet hit the planking, Jeremy bent over coughing and gasping. Agnes’ lips were blue and she wasn’t breathing. My Lord Jesus, I prayed, please don’t let her be dead. William would be devastated. I knelt beside her and patted her cheeks, trying to awaken her.

All of a sudden, Henry Tibbets appeared beside me. “Pardon me, ma’am,” he said quickly, gently moving me aside. Bending down he placed his lips to Agnes’ and began to blow. Her breast rose and fell with each breath of air. Henry continued to perform this action, until finally Agnes began violently coughing. Henry quickly turned her on her side, allowing her to retch. Sea water poured from her mouth and I was amazed, for I didn’t realize anyone knew artificial respiration on this side of the time warp. I’d never learned the technique myself and was interested in seeing it performed up close. Agnes opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Am I dead?” she asked.

“Shhhh,” I said, patting her hand. “You’re quite alive. Don’t try to talk, just relax.”

When she was finally able to sit up, she looked at everyone around her and smiled. “I saw angels,” she said, dreamily. “They were coming for me. But then I…uh…what happened?” She appeared to have gotten her bearings. The glazed look was disappearing from her eyes.

“Evidently, a great fish, called a whale, ran into the ship and the motion threw you over the side,” I explained. “Jeremy jumped in to save you and Henry helped you cough up the water.”

“Jeremy saved me?”

“Yes, Jeremy saved you and Henry…”

“Jeremy saved me, did he? Well, I guess he isn’t so bad after all.” I chuckled. Poor, negative Agnes: it took her nearly dying to realize that our Mr. Jeremy wasn’t the ogre she thought him to be.

Later, after getting Agnes to bed, I tracked down Henry Tibbets. “I was impressed

with the method you used to help Agnes.”

“Oh, that well, that was what the sailors call the ‘breath of life.’ She wasn’t breathing, you see, and I just had to help her remember how to breathe again.”

“Could you teach me the technique?” I really wanted to know how to do this thing.

“Well, ma’am, I’d have to do it to you. That would be like kissing you. Are you sure you want me to?”

“Oh! I didn’t think about that. Maybe you could just tell me how.”

“Sure, I can do that.” He smiled a toothy grin just like his cousin’s. Looking at him sharply, I realized that he had been kidding me and we laughed.

 

*************

 

“But, Sarah, I don’t want to wait. Jeremy and I want to be married now, before my brothers have a chance to ruin it for us.” Lizzie stood before me stamping her foot with her arms akimbo.

“And Henry and I want to be married also,” her sister, Mary, added.

I’d known of Lizzie’s infatuation with Jeremy for a while. But Mary’s pronouncement was a surprise. I guessed that with the epidemic and all, I’d just not been as observant of my sisters-in-law as I should have been.

“And you expect me to allow this without consulting your brothers?” I was very agitated that they would put me in this unsettling predicament. But I realized that Lizzie was right. John would object vehemently to her marrying Jeremy Tibbets, and any relative of Jeremy’s would be dirt in his sight.

“He doesn’t know Jeremy like I do—like we all do now. He’s not the same, Sarah, you know that. He’s accepted the Lord.” Lizzie was near to tears. I turned to Agnes.

“Don’t put me in the middle of this,” she said, throwing up her hands and backing away. “I want no part of it. This decision and its consequences must be borne by you and you alone.”

“Thank you for your gracious support,” I replied, a little sarcastically. “Girls, I need to think about this and pray about it. I’ll give you my decision in a day or two. We’re still at least two or three weeks from America—there’s no need to rush this thing.”

After they left, Agnes approached me. “Sarah, you can’t permit this. John would be furious. He believes Jeremy to have murdered his mother and very nearly cost him his freedom. I don’t think anything will change his mind about that boy.”

“You may very well be right, but Jeremy did not kill Lady Elizabeth, and he has accepted Christ.”

“He says he’s accepted Christ. How can we be certain? It could all be just a ruse.”

“Yes, it could be. But, we cannot judge Jeremy’s motives—only the Lord can do that, Agnes. We can only judge what we see, and since his conversion, Jeremy has been an epitome of kindness and remorse for his actions. I have seen no evidence of evil intent. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I know what I’d do—I’d tell those girls to wait and let their brothers decide. Besides, Henry has made no such conversion. Mary could be opening herself up for trouble.”

“Yes, I know, that’s another obstruction. This has put me in quite a quandary. I really need the Lord’s guidance.”

“I’ll pray for you, Sarah. You’re going to need it now and when you face the wrath of John Keeney, if you permit this travesty.” She patted me on the shoulder and lightly kissed my cheek.

In the end after a sleepless night of weeping, praying and seeking God’s guidance, the girls won out. I knew John would be livid that I’d gone behind his back and permitted the marriages, but I also realized that if I left it up to him, the marriages would never take place. The Lord would just have to prepare my husband’s heart and mind. I just hoped I could weather the eruption when it finally came.

On May 27th, Elizabeth and Mary Keeney became the wives of Jeremy and Henry Tibbets. Captain Jabson performed the ceremony and Red stood up for both of the boys. Fortunately, I had persuaded the girls to delay consummating the marriages until after we landed in America, and Captain Jabson agreed, saying that Henry needed to work out the balance of his indenture, refusing to allow the couple to openly live together while aboard ship. Lizzie and Mary were a little piqued with me about that detail, but realized that I was taking quite a risk in allowing the marriages at all and so agreed to abide by my decision.