Dear America A Journey to the New World Diary of Remember Patience Whipple

March, 1621

March 3, 1621

Plimoth Settlement

Dear Imp,

There is a teasing of spring in the air.  I hate it.  Seventeen people died last month and the birds are chirping.  We are mocked.  I want the birds to shut their beaks.  I want the sun to blink once and then roll its bright yellow eye into the skull of the sky like the dead man's eyes do roll up.  I want the soft, warm breeze to sputter out.  I dare a dandelion to show its face!

Love,
Mem

March 7, 1621

Plimoth Settlement

Dear Imp,

The weather turns cold again.  The wind is from the full east.  But I have some hope.  Father and I decided to move Mam back to our house.  The very thought of returning to it seems to have helped her.  Father will take my place in the sick shed and I will stay with Mam and Blessing.  Also, today we have planted seed for the first time.  We sowed some in our garden as did other people.  There is something that I have not mentioned before, Imp.  For a long time on my saunterings to the rim of the woods, to break from the illness and death of the sick shed, I have felt when I sit there that eyes are watching from the shadowed edges of the woods.  I said nothing to Hummy about it until today, but she, too, agrees.  We both think that the Indians be much closer and more constant in their vigil of us then anyone has previously thought.

Love,
Mem

March 9, 1621

Plimoth Settlement

Dear Imp,

Mam is back.  It is so good.  She still is terribly weak, but she seems most happy to be back.  When she has the strength and the breath she keeps telling me all sorts of housewifery things.  It is as if she wants to teach me all at once.  I must grow rosemary in the garden and then put in around the house to clear the bad vapors.  Also, I should grow thyme and if Blessing has nightmares give her an infusion of it.

This talk disturbs me.  I say, "Why me?  You shall be well, by spring.  We shall plant together."  And then she laughs and says that she really means for when I grow up and have a household of my own.  And that I must learn how to feel the weight of a measure in my hand for many a good housewife has been cheated thus by a shopkeeper.  And I say, "Mam, we barely have houses here, let alone shops."  And she laughed at this and then began to cough.  I must mind my tongue.  But 'tis so good to have her back.

Love,
Mem

March 10, 1621

Plimoth Settlement

Dear Imp,

Hummy is most worried about her father.  It is hard to describe for it be not exactly a bodily sickness, but Master Sawyer has become increasingly slow in his movements and response.  He seems withdrawn into another world.  Hummy did confess to me when we were by the woods' edge that she has heard him late at night talking to her dear dead mother.  It reminds her so of Dorothy Bradford.  He has ceased to go with the men to fell timber and he stays much of the day staring into his fireplace.  He does help with the sick though.  So at least he is doing that share.