CHAPTER 1
Fleeing Boston
It was a cold and wet morning in early November of 1708 that chilled you to the bone. The rains had come again the night before and drenched everything. It stole through the many cracks in the walls, bringing the uncomfortable dampness with it. Although the temperature was still well above freezing, the damp chill made it feel as though winter had fully descended.
The hay and corn not all put up yet left William Brooks uneasy about provisions for the likely long winter to come. The tobacco still curing would be ready to go to Burlington shortly. Things were too wet to do much of anything except rework damaged tools from summer's farming and get them ready for the coming spring, still five months away. His pregnant wife, Amanda had been busy all summer filling up the root cellar at the back of the house with all manner of root crops. The root cellar dug deep into the steep incline of the hill that rose far above the tree tops surrounding the house. Timbers framed its face and a thick oaken door sealed it from the harshness of the summer sun, now disappearing more each day. Amanda also cleaned out the smoke house in anticipation of the salting, drying and smoking meats. That would begin in the next few weeks. On the inside walls she stretched more cloth pieces to better hold in the smoke and heat for curing and drying.
The chickens were providing 8-10 eggs a day. Amanda's mother taught her even eggs could be preserved for up to nine months by wiping cooking grease on them before placing them on the root cellar floor where it was cooler.
It had been nearly six years since leaving their home in Norfolk County Massachusetts, two miles southwest of Boston, to move just south of Burlington, New Jersey. The New Jersey colony first settled in 1664, some 34 years after the Massachusetts colony. Their small, two-room log home was situated in Burlington County on the banks of the Delaware River at Rancocas Creek. They were 15 miles northeast of Philadelphia and across the Delaware River.
In Boston the Puritans made life so difficult for all faiths, especially Quakers and Seventh Day Worshippers. People were leaving in droves. They were moving to the rich farm lands and forests of New Jersey. One wouldn't think Christian Puritans would behave so, but the Quakers and Seventh Day Worshipers were different. That made them a target. Puritans thought them not strict enough. As well, their mother land, England, had for some time been increasingly intruding into their lives in Boston without any regard for their privacy and freedom whatsoever. Between edicts and a tax on most things, they felt pushed and at the same time restricted.
There seemed to be less and less room for them to spread out on their 20-acre cabbage farm near Boston. They tilled all they could but the small area that was their home site.
In Burlington County, Virginia they were able to purchase 160 acres from the proceeds of their Boston farm. Their move of 140 miles took them four weeks to complete in the spring of 1702. They were unable to get crops out in time for a harvest before the coming winter. The winter that first year had been especially painful for them with few rations and a hovel for housing. However, William, 21, and Amanda, 17, were young, strong and had the company of other kith and kin during the daring move. Only a few settled near them. She had been born in 1686 and he in 1681.
William and Amanda had only six acres of their land tillable, but it was proving enough to supply their needs and some left over to trade and barter with neighbors. They rebuilt their livestock holdings to two milking cows, a bull, eight sheep, two of which were about to birth, and 28 chickens, of which about half were layers. The Devons were a breed of cattle introduced from England some 40 or so years earlier. They were hearty cattle, a bright red whose horns were white with black tips. They were foragers who did well in brushy country which is what the frontier land was made up of. The Devons were good milkers, insuring large amounts of butter and cheeses as well. These and other such things were bartered with nearby neighbors.
Their two Marsh Tacky horses, a mare named Lizzie and a stallion named Rooster, were strong and more than able to pull the wooden plough and harrow through the sometimes moist soil near the river bottoms. They were not attractive, but a dirty brown. They were descendants of the many horses the Spanish brought to the colonies decades before. The soil was especially fertile, and the corn did well here. William also had a small stand of tobacco every year that was grown for trade with merchants who shipped it to Great Britain.
William and Amanda had two children shortly after arriving in Burlington County. Their first born was Sadie, now age five. She was a white blond headed little girl, who looked like an overgrown china doll. She was quite the little grown up, helping mama with small chores already.
Her most important chore seemed to be tending to her little sister, Ester, who was age three and inclined to get into everything. Ester was especially attracted to their cistern. It had been dug shortly after arriving. It had a wooden top standing some three feet above the ground with a leather hinged lid. The cistern was connected to the spring by a long wooden trough so that spring water would continually fill it.
It was thought most water was not to be safe to drink. Even so William often drank deeply from the stone-lined pool at the spring. He constructed it the summer before last. The water from the spring was cold. The spring was a good place for crocks of butter and other foods to avoid spoilage in the summer months. Round circular wooden lids fit tightly in the containers. It also proved a good place to keep a jug of ale.
Ester just would not stay away from the nearby cistern where she risked falling in. Sadie would find her climbing on it and once again drag her back to the house screaming.
This particular November morning was more bleak than usual. Amanda was pregnant with her third child. Her labor she thought had begun the day before, but wasn't regular like. She was doing poorly. William was beside himself. He thought he could care for her, and if things had been natural like, no doubt he could have.
Miranda Roberts, their neighbor from a farm three miles to the North was with her now. The day before, William visited the Roberts farm, asking if Miranda could come and look in on Amanda. Amanda had been in irregular labor since noon on Wednesday. William was in a panic. This was the first child she was having a problem with. It had been many days now since she couldn't stand to do simple things.
Miranda arrived Wednesday evening, just after dark to find Amanda so exhausted by labor that hadn't progressed naturally. Miranda was up with Amanda all that night long and with no end in sight to the irregular pains. This morning Amanda had taken a turn for the worse, and was exhausted and unable to help by pushing any further.
Miranda whispered to William, "The baby's got all the signs of not being turned all the way. I think we are going to have to do it."
William heard Miranda say the words, but he felt frozen and couldn't collect his senses.
She repeated, "William, we've got to do it."
The abruptness of her tone shook him from his stupor, replying, "I don't think I can," he stuttered.
"You got no choice. You don't want to see them both die, do you?" That seemed to shake William from his numbness as he asked, "Help me, tell me what I can do," now with a slight trembling in his voice.
Amanda by now was in and out of consciousness almost two hours. "Get me more hot water and cloths. Let's get her in a better position. I'm going to try reaching in and bring the head down some," she said as William was gathering the things she asked for. Miranda began the frightening process of squeezing the fingers of her left hand in searching for the baby's head. She found it. Carefully, she began the process of pushing the baby's back up with her right hand and pulling the head down with her left. The hot wet cloth was helping relax Amanda's body somewhat. Following what seemed like an eternity, Miranda worked the head out.
"Now William, press lightly on top of her stomach to help me get the baby free. Amanda, push with all your might."
Slowly Amanda's body gave up the baby, and it was free of her.
William watched in tears as they peered at that small wet body now as blue as a summer's sky. Miranda worked feverishly to clear its mouth and rubbed the body in an attempt to revive her. The little girl had coal black hair, just like her mothers.
"It's no use. I'm not getting any response. I think we've lost her," Miranda became emotional as her eyes began to tear up. The baby had come too early, she was too small. She put her ear on the baby's chest listening for a heartbeat. There was none.
The room went quiet for minutes until Miranda realized the loss of blood was about to doom Amanda to the same fate. Taking the cloths, she began to staunch the flow, maintaining pressure. It was working. Although Amanda was semi-conscious, her condition seemed stable enough for now. It would only be time before they would know her condition.
William wrapped the baby in clean dry cloths, and placed it on the bed beside Amanda. William, unable to speak had broken into a sweat and was visually shaken.
Miranda was the first to speak, following a long silence, "William, we did all we could. It pains me something awful, but we did all we could do. We'll just have to wait to see how Amanda will do now."
The morning was spent. The rain once more had begun slow and easy like. William stood staring out the small frame-encased window of the bedroom overwhelmed by the pain that weighed him down like a wet heavy woolen blanket.
He whispered under his breath, "Why God?" No replay came, none was truly expected.
He never hurt like this before he thought. Abruptly, he turned seeing Amanda. Her face was quiet like. He thought how he needed to collect himself and be concerned about her and the girls. What's done is done and now he had to do what they could to save Amanda - if they could. Moving to her bedside he sat on the edge and began to caress her hand. He could feel her heart beating in her wrist and the strength of her pulse.
That was good. Hope again surged within him. He had to focus on her with all his might.
"Miranda," he asked, "What are you thinking? Is she going to recover?"
"We'll know in a few hours. When she wakes we'll know more. All we can do is wait. Only time will tell."
William continued to sit, caressing her hand for over an hour before he became so restless that he had to do something.
"I'm going to the shed to check the stock," he announced.
Miranda understood saying, "I'll put something together for you and the girls when you come back in."
William replied, "Don't bother. I don't feel like I could eat a thing. Just feed the girls for me."
"I'll need to go home for a while this evening," said Miranda, "I'll need to see how my children are getting on and come back before it gets real late. Ernest is still in Philadelphia and the children are alone, except for Elsie."
Elsie was nearly 17; Elsie was able to run the house quite well without Miranda. Still she wanted to see Elsie and her other children.
"I think it best if I go check on them," she told him. "I'll get back before midnight. When she wakes again get some water and this broth in her. Check from time to time to see that the bleeding is stopped. Get all these other cloths washed up."
With that she collected up her few things and was off on foot, making her way down the muddy road connecting the two farms. She left William alone with the girls, the baby and Amanda. For the first time in his life, he felt really alone and helpless. There was nothing he could do. The feeling was terrifying.
Along near dark Amanda began to rally somewhat. She was able to take some broth. She asked the girls if they could come and sit with her. They were quiet like as they peered at the small and still baby at her side.
She asked William if he would place the baby in her arms, "I want to hold her some," she whispered in a low and weak tone, "I need to hold her, William."
Their two girls sat in silence as Amanda began to rock the baby back and forth.
"We need to name her," Amanda said remembering they had already chosen the name Anna for a girl and Thomas for a boy.
"It's Anna Brooks," William softly replied.
"I'm going to go to the shed for a while," William told her.
"Why?" asked Amanda.
William looked hard and long at Amanda and left the room without answering. She knew full well from the look in his face he was going to begin work on Anna's coffin. She knew in her heart the pain they both felt, but time wouldn't stand still affording them a respite.
They had to move forward. The girls left the room now while Amanda continued rocking Anna and began softly singing, "Curly locks, curly looks, wilt thou be mine - thou shall not wash dishes, nor yet feed the swine - but sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam - and feed upon strawberries, sugar and cream."
After three rounds, her voice trailed off and fell into silence once more. She stopped rocking. Her face became as stone, her stare as cold as the iron nails she seemed to be looking at in the wall across the room. Near the door to the main room sat a long slender cradle that both Sadie and Ester had used. It was empty and would continue to be empty now she considered.
Evening had fallen when William returned from the shed with Anna's coffin. He sat it in the corner of the front room on a small table and sank into a chair at the table.
"Girls," he called, "come and let's have some supper."
They wasted no time coming to the table as William filled their little trenchers with a serving of potatoes and the two-day-old deer stew over cornbread Miranda had warmed. The girls were quiet and like William, they had no appetite. All three of them picked over their portions, but ate little.
Now dark, they heard a tiny rap at the door.
Opening the door slightly, Miranda stuck her head in, saying, "Anybody here?"
The girls and William looked up and William in a stronger voice now, asked, "Come on in and eat some supper with us."
"First I want to tend to Amanda," she answered, "Is she awake?" "Yes," replied William, "Could be she might take some more porridge. You might ask her."
Miranda walked to the bedroom, looking in, found Amanda asleep with Anna in her arms.
Returning to the front room she said, "She's asleep again. Let's just let her rest. Her color is come back some. I think she is doing as well as can be expected. By tomorrow we'll know more."
She took a trencher from the cupboard, a spoon from the drawer, and served herself up some of the deer stew and cornbread, sitting down between the girls. No one spoke. It seemed there was nothing to say.
An hour passed, then two. They heard movement in the bedroom and William went to see, finding Amanda had gotten up from the bed.
"Amanda, you oughtn't to be trying to get up alone," he declared. "Is there something I can get for you?"
"No, I just wanted to move about a bit," she replied. "I feel like I have to get on my feet some."
"Miranda is back. Can she help you?" he asked.
With that Miranda was already at the door to the room and quick as a flash, was in the room helping Amanda back to the bedside.
"Let's not get into a rush. There is time enough to get better and no need of causing yourself more harm," Miranda insisted. One, two and three steps found her back sitting on the edge of the bed. She was going to be okay. You could feel the air lighten as she settled back into the bed. It would take time, but they would weather this and come out on the other side, okay.
The next morning Miranda was up at first light fixing a little breakfast of pork bacon, and gravy for the bread and eggs. Amanda was able to eat some eggs. The girls, still quiet, were going about small house chores. William was busy lining the inside of the tiny coffin with white linen and a small pillow he made from left over cloths he found. He would set the coffin on a wall table near the door. Next he found a small dress that both girls had worn, to dress Anna in. Following that he placed her in the coffin. He stood for a few moments admiring her and how she was such a beautiful baby. Her eyes were closed as if she were only asleep.
