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A Heart Set Free

By Janet S. Grunst

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CHAPTER 1
1770
Heather Douglas stood on the dock, shivering in disbelief. Her
heart skipped a beat as she touched her wrist. It was gone.
How had she forgotten? The gold bracelet her mother had given
her was gone. She had sold it two days before. She sighed. There
had been no other choice. She would not beg for charity from
family acquaintances. Besides, the gossip about her had already
begun amongst neighbors and the patrons of her family’s shop.
Her family had been fabric merchants, mercers, in Perth for
many years. The Douglas name was well established and respected.
Stories of indecorous behavior were prone to travel, so she had to
do the same. She had thought Edinburgh would be far enough
away to save her family’s honor. It was not, but it was a starting
place. It was in Edinburgh that she learned of a way to leave
Scotland and find a new beginning.
Some new beginning. She shuddered.
She had left a life of comfort for a warehouse filled with others
like herself who were leaving Scotland for the colonies.
Like many of the other indentured servants, she had spent the
frigid night in the barren warehouse on the wharf, waiting to board
the ship before dawn. Now, outside and exposed, she shivered as
the icy rain penetrated her woolen cloak. Her toes were so cold
she could hardly feel them. The emigrants had formed a queue
to embark the merchant vessel, Providence. Her churning stomach
reminded her it had been too long since she had last eaten.
A flurry of activity on board the ship drew her attention to
the sailors hanging from the tall masts, readying the vessel for
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the transatlantic voyage. The men shouted to each other while
weaving through the rigging like giant spiders. She spotted a tall
man with authority, possibly the captain of the Providence, standing
on the gangway, going over with the agents what she assumed
was the passenger manifest. Like her, most of the passengers were
indentured servants, but she had learned from an agent that there
were also redemptioners making the crossing—emigrants who had
paid for a portion of their passage and were expecting friends or
family in the colonies to lend or give them the unpaid balance.
Unlike the redemptioners, she had no one to help her once she
arrived.
She shook violently, one hand clutching the hood over her
head to fend off the wind and rain, her other hand clinging to
the embroidered satchel. In it was everything she chose to take
with her. She should have taken more, but getting away from Ross
had been her primary concern. Now thoughts of her brother only
irritated her, and that served no purpose.
The wind carried bits of conversation. There were a number of
families with small children and others like herself who appeared
to be solitary travelers. Behind her, a tall, attractive woman tried
to console two young girls. The freezing rain crystallized at the
woman’s hairline. What had driven her to make a decision like this
for herself and her girls?
“I cannot imagine it will be much longer until we are allowed
to board, Emily. Do try to be patient. I know you are still tired.”
One of the girls tugged at her mother’s skirt. “I am hungry,
Mama.”
The woman pulled something from one of the portmanteaus
she carried.
“Here, Katie, have some cheese and bread. Remember, I asked
you to breakfast with Emily and me.”
The tall woman glanced up, made eye contact with her for the
first time, and smiled. Her large brown eyes, arresting against so
creamy a complexion, invited friendship. “I had to wake the bairns
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up early this morning to arrive in time. Now there is nowhere to
go.”
Heather nodded. “They will surely have us go aboard soon or
allow us to return to the warehouse to keep out of the weather.”
Some of the other passengers in the queue also seemed restless
about the delay. The captain stood on deck giving orders to the
agents. Two of them went ashore and motioned to the emigrants
to begin the climb up the oak gangway. Each one stopped briefly
to allow a ship’s officer to make an accounting on the manifest.
Waiting her turn on the ship, Heather drew the satchel to her
for warmth. All the activity on deck awed her. The icy fog and
muffled sounds made an eerie scene. Passengers walked precariously
around what appeared like miles of coiled hemp ropes. The crew,
though busy preparing the ship for sail, appeared quite intent on
the emigrants, particularly the women. One rather swarthy sailor
standing near them licked his lips and winked at her. He grinned at
the tall woman behind her. It made Heather’s skin crawl.
She turned away from him and whispered to the woman, “Keep
your girls close.”
The woman’s face turned anxious. “I wish he would be about
his business and leave us be.”
Heather raised her chin and glared at him, but he ignored her.
His eyes rested on the smallest girl.
The woman frowned and drew her daughters close to her full
skirt. “Aye, I shall be glad when we get through this checkpoint and
can go below.”
The sailor, reeking of tobacco and spirits, brushed against
Heather and mumbled something as he made his way aft.
Her eyes followed him as he disappeared from view into the
fog. She glanced again at the small girls. They would need to be
protected in the weeks ahead.
Once accounted for, she headed for the ladder leading below, as
the others had before her. Impatient, some of the crew pushed and
shouted as they herded the remaining passengers to the “between-
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A Heart Set Free
the-decks” area below. There, the men were steered to one side,
the women and small children to the other. Heather squinted to
try and make out shapes in the darkness ahead. Her eyes watered,
and her nostrils flared at the caustic air. Had they even bothered to
clean the ship before funneling the passengers aboard?
The ceilings in the cramped, poorly lit quarters were so low
that standing upright was impossible for all but the children. The
bunks, covered with straw pallets and positioned next to each other
throughout the musty area, smelled of mildew and urine. Trunks
or bundles had to be placed at the end of the children’s smaller
bunks. This arrangement allowed for only a few narrow aisles for
moving about the compartment. With such crowded conditions,
privacy would be nonexistent. Desperate for a place to sit, Heather
quickly chose a bunk and clutched her bag. The others fought over
what they must have perceived to be the choice locations.
“Good day, again.” It was the woman she had first noticed
on the dock. Hers was the first sign of friendship Heather had
witnessed in days. How she longed for a friend.
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sara Macmillan,
and these are my daughters, Emily and Katie. Have these pallets
been spoken for?”
“Nay, I do not believe so. I am Heather Douglas. Pleased to
make your acquaintance.”
Sara set her portmanteaus on a pallet and motioned for the girls
to climb onto the smaller one. “Quite extravagant accommodations
we have.” Her sarcasm was softened by a smile. “Are you from
Edinburgh, Miss Douglas?”
“Nay, I … I am from Perth.”
“Ah, you had a bit of a journey. We were a mite more fortunate
in that sense. We have been staying with my aunt in Edinburgh
these past two months.”
She smiled at Sara and removed her cloak, which was heavy
with rainwater. “It is so dark and close in here, and the peculiar
odor makes it difficult to breathe.”
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Sara shook out her cloak and placed it on the pallet. “I heard
someone say they use vinegar to wash down the walls and deck. I
suspect they are not overly concerned about our comfort.”
“It would appear not. Is your husband aboard also?”
Sara lowered herself onto the pallet, and her expression grew
pensive. “John, God bless him, passed on six months ago. The girls
and I are going to Virginia to his brother’s home. Andrew and his
family live some miles south of Alexandria. It was John’s dream to
settle in Virginia. Now it is ours.”
Heather studied Sara’s sad brown eyes and those of the two
little girls. Her heart filled with empathy for them, and for a few
minutes, she forgot her own pain.
“Do you have family or friends in the colonies, Heather, or are
you indentured?”
“Nay. I have no one there. I am indentured.”
Sara continued to watch her as if waiting for her to continue.
“May I ask why you indentured yourself? I have never known
anyone who did that.”
She hesitated a moment, knots forming in the back of her neck.
Could she trust Sara with her history? How much worse could
things be? “My father died recently, and our family circumstances
required I seek employment … preferably far from home. I believed
this was an answer.”
“Well, fresh starts are always good. This is a new beginning for
all of us.”
Heather glanced about. Fresh start, indeed.
gG
In the days that followed, Heather enjoyed the times when she
and Sara talked about anything and everything. Sara often referred
to her faith in Jesus and how much He had helped her and the girls,
particularly in the months following John’s death. Sara prayed with
the girls and read her Bible regularly. Heather rummaged through
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A Heart Set Free
her satchel for her own Bible, something she had only thought to
bring at the last minute before she left home. After a few minutes
of thumbing through the pages, she glanced at Sara.
“Do you mind if I ask you about your faith, Sara?”
“Of course not.”
“Please do not misunderstand me. I can see you are a very
religious woman. It is, well, you speak of Jesus ... it is as if He
is your friend, someone you converse with … right here.” She
waved her hands in front. “I think of Jesus as the Son of God, and
someone I worship and pray to, but not here.”
Sara’s smile was like a balm. “I understand what you mean,
Heather. Years ago, I believed what I was taught about God and
Jesus. I attended services, prayed, and tried to do and say the right
things. But whenever I fell short of my expectations, I suffered
guilt that I was never good enough. When John and I married,
he explained to me that believing in the Lord was but one part
of faith—that I also needed to receive Him in here.” Sara patted
her chest. “He became more than my Savior, who would forgive
me my trespasses when I died. He forgives me whenever I go to
Him with a repentant heart. It is the Holy Ghost that I carry with
me everywhere. He brings my sins to my conscience when I have
erred. He is my comforter, teacher, and yes, my friend. My faith has
changed from being a religion to a relationship.” Sara reached over
and squeezed her hand. “Does that help to answer your question?”
There was such peace in Sara’s face, something Heather had
experienced little of lately. “Aye. You have certainly given me much
to think about.”
“If you have more questions, I am here.”
gG
The conditions below deck were abysmal. It was crowded and
offered little privacy. The air was musty and the stench nauseating.
The passage seemed never-ending. Days turned into weeks, and
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Janet S. Grunst
the abundance of time without activity allowed Heather’s mind
to wander. At night, when talking ceased and sleep was elusive,
painful memories and fear replaced the boredom.
She needed to focus on the future. Freedom. It would be seven
years before she would experience it again. There was no way
to turn back. Nay, she did not really want to go back. Whatever
awaited her had to be better than what she had left behind. When
she signed the indenture, the agent told her that upon completion
of her seven years of service, she would be free and receive a small
parcel of land for her own. Aye, it was a wise choice to leave
Scotland and her past, with all its losses, behind.
A rustle interrupted her musings. The dim light of a nearby
lantern accentuated the peaceful expression on Sara’s face as she
tucked the blanket around her girls, now sleeping soundly. “It will
be grand to finally reach Virginia. Andrew says we will love living
there.”
“As much as I want to get off this ship, I fear what lies ahead
for me.”
“Heather, was what you left in Scotland so bad? When you told
me why you indentured yourself, it almost sounded as if you were
trying to escape something. Did I misunderstand you?”
Heather’s stomach clenched. “I needed to leave. I was without
resources, and there was an unjust scandal brewing about me.” As
close as she had grown to Sara, she was not ready to reveal more
about her life or her mistakes. “Now, tell me again about John’s
brother. You said he and his family live south of Alexandria. Does
he live in town, or in the country?”
Sara’s smile suggested she saw through the ploy. “Andrew and
Rebecca live in Fredericksburg. He is involved with commerce
along a nearby river. Living with John’s family in Fredericksburg
will provide the best possible situation for us.”
gG
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A Heart Set Free
The following day, a violent storm engulfed the Providence.
Heather grasped the edge of her pallet to keep from rolling off
each time the square-rigger pitched and rolled. Fierce winds
and torrential rain thrashed the creaking vessel. The sound of ill
passengers shouting and screaming from the violent buffeting
made her cringe. The stench turned her stomach. She held a
handkerchief to her nose, but it did little good. She prayed her dry
heaves would not return.
Earlier that day, the crew member who brought their daily ration
of water indicated that the captain and his mates were struggling to
keep the ship upright and on course. Some passengers only stared
at him. Others shouted pleas or hostile words.
Bile filled her throat. The sick relieved themselves wherever
they could, and any sense of modesty had long been lost.
Her stomach heaved again, and she covered her mouth. She
closed her eyes, trying to mentally escape her present circumstances.
If only she could change the events that had brought her to this
merchant vessel. But the past would not be altered.
Was it seven or eight weeks now they had been at sea? It was
difficult to keep track. She had counted the days at first, but once
so many people became ill, she stopped. What purpose did it serve?
She scratched herself and picked what she suspected were
weevils from the hardtack. Think about something else, Heather, not
about the desire for a decent meal, or for a drink of cool, clean water—
and certainly not for a bath.
She recalled those last days at home filled with hurt, confusion,
disillusionment, and the need to escape. Indenturing herself had
been an impulsive decision, and she was not an impulsive person.
But she had found no work as a seamstress those few days spent in
Edinburgh. She had no prospects of employment and no money,
and the scandal was sure to become known. It had seemed the
wisest choice at the time. All her hopes rested in the life she would
find in Virginia. It was foolhardy to dwell on matters she was
powerless to change.
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Janet S. Grunst
When the rolling of the ship finally subsided, she folded her
legs under her. She glanced down to her soiled woolen dress.
Pathetic. It had been a handsome frock once. Now it needed more
than thread to mend the tears. The calico dress in her satchel was
just as filthy.
Her eyes burned from the acrid air as she gazed around at
the other passengers. At the onset of the voyage, they numbered
ninety; now only seventy-two remained. They moaned in agony.
The foul stench of so many—their sweat, waste, and vomit—was
enough to turn any stomach, even in a calmer sea. Heather looked
forward to the days when the passengers were allowed on deck to
walk about, enjoy the sunlight, and breathe fresh air.
gG
As Sara and her girls climbed off the ladder to the deck with
Heather, the wind whipped at their cloaks and skirts. The children
were steered to an area amidships where they could play safely. The
adults were grateful for the opportunity to walk upright. She and
Sara drank in the fresh cool air but did not allow their gazes to
stray far from the girls.
She tapped Sara’s arm when she spotted the sailor in the blue
patched shirt ogling them.
Sara turned her way. “Ignore him, Heather. Smell that fresh sea
breeze. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever get out here
again.”
“Aye. My thoughts also.”
Sara’s brow furrowed. “The deaths of the Maxwell children were
heartbreaking. My girls played with them, and I am concerned that
they might take ill.” Sara bit her lip and pulled her cloak tighter
across her bodice as she glanced in the direction of the girls. “Katie
has been so quiet today.”
Heather placed her hand on Sara’s back. “The turn around
the deck will do us all good. Exercise and sunshine have always
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A Heart Set Free
perked us up before.”
Fighting the wind, Sara gathered her hood around her face. “I
had no idea how we would be berthed and fed or how confining it
would be for the girls. I fear for them above all else.”
Heather squeezed Sara’s hand and pointed to the sailor
approaching them. “He is following us again.” She shuddered, and
a lump formed in her throat. She took Sara’s arm and steered her
toward the area where the girls were seated with the other children.
The youngsters were enthralled by three sailors playing on wooden
hornpipes. But far too soon, they were ushered below to what had
become their prison.
The next day, the crew began to ration water as the demand
for it grew. Below deck, people were growing restless and worried.
Hostility and fear were becoming as virulent as the fever among
the passengers. Each day, more of the passengers were taken ill
with dysentery and fever. The disease was taking its toll on all,
particularly the children. A few days before, two more children had
died after days of suffering from a rash and fever. Day after day,
bodies were given up to the sea. Even the crew appeared anxious
about the spreading calamity. Some of the sailors who distributed
the hardtack and water and removed the slops were overheard
saying that there had been more fever on this trip than they had
seen on other crossings.
gG
Once again on deck, Heather stared out on the green swells.
The breeze against her face revived her after days and nights of
grieving. The last week had been the worst of the voyage. Why, oh
why, Lord?
Katie had taken ill like so many others onboard. While Sara
nursed the feverish child, Heather had kept Emily as distant as
possible. On the second day of Katie’s illness, the pestilence also
struck Emily. To bring down their fevers, the two women bathed
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the girls day and night with their meager supply of water. Weak
and exhausted, Sara, too, finally fell ill. Heather faithfully cared for
her friend.
Emily and Katie died within two days of each other. Sara
lingered two more days before dying.
I will miss you so, Sara—your wisdom, your kindness, your
unwavering faith. We prayed, Lord. Where were You?
She would not dwell on it now. It was too painful. She had
to think about the future. Land had been sighted low on the
horizon, and now she saw it too. Gulls squawked as she took one
last glimpse at the sky before heading back to the hold. It would
not be long now. They were in the Bay of Chesapoyocke, close to
the Potomack. Ahead, somewhere out there, was the port town of
Alexandria and her future.

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