Page 3 of Shoshone Sun (Native Sun #3)
- Liverpool, 1866 -
The ship John M. Chapman loomed large at the dock, its three smokestacks reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers, beckoning travelers toward the promise of a new life. Peter led the small family, hauling the wooden trunk packed with their essentials. The salty tang of the sea air filled their lungs, mingling with the scent of wet wood and tar.
Excitement filled with apprehension was in Susan’s heart as she clutched Petey close to her chest. Jane walked beside her, a bundle of the family’s belongings under her arm.
“Are you sure about this?” Jane asked, glancing at her sister, uncertainty flickering in her blue eyes.
“Yes,” Susan replied, summoning all her courage. “We must do this. It’s our chance for a better future than we could have now in England.”
Peter turned back to his sister-in-law. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it, Jane. Together, we’ll face whatever comes our way.”
With that, they stepped aboard the vessel, crossing over the gangplank that creaked underfoot. The deck was bustling with activity, sailors shouting orders as they moved about, preparing for departure. The chaos was overwhelming but exhilarating. The family navigated their way through the crowd, seeking their assigned quarters.
Their accommodations were cramped—a small space tucked beneath the main deck that held barely enough room for the three adults and infant. Narrow bunk beds took up one cabin wall. The walls were rough and bare, the scent of dampness lingering in the air. Despite the conditions, Susan felt a surge of determination. This would be their home for the next few weeks, and she would make it work.
After unpacking a few of the belongings they would need on the voyage, and spreading Susan’s mother’s quilt over the bottom bunk and a plain woolen blanket over the top, they ventured onto the deck to take in their surroundings. The ship was alive with energy as the last passengers boarded and the crew prepared to set sail. Other families were huddled close together, their expressions a mix of hope and trepidation. They exchanged smiles with a few neighbors including an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who had left their small village to seek a better life in America.
“We’ll all be in this together,” Mrs. Turner said, her eyes sparkling with a blend of excitement and anxiety. “A new start, they say! I just hope we can survive the voyage.”
As the ship’s bell sounded, signaling their pending departure, Peter and his family gathered at the railing, watching the shores of England fade into the distance. The gentle lapping of the waves against the ship’s hull provided a soothing rhythm, but the churning in Susan’s stomach betrayed her nerves.
Days turned into nights as the ship plowed its way across the Atlantic. The cramped quarters became a familiar discomfort, but spirits remained lifted by the promise of a new life. Each morning, the smell of saltwater filled the air, and the sun spilled golden light across the deck.
Meals were a far cry from the hearty fare they were accustomed to on the farm. They were served slop in a public dining area—thin gruel that barely resembled porridge, alongside hardtack biscuits that crumbled like old stone. They shared their table with a group of other families, including a lively mother named Mary who had three children and was eager to share what she’d heard about life in the new world.
“Have you heard of the land available for settlers?” she asked, her eyes bright. “A hundred and sixty acres! Can you imagine? A farm of your own!”
Susan exchanged glances with Peter, giving him a smile. Such an amount of land was an unthinkable dream for those who had never in their entire lives owned even a square yard of God’s good earth.
“One hundred and sixty acres…” Peter repeated, half to himself. The thought was both exhilarating and daunting.
“Of course, there’ll be challenges,” Mary continued, serious now. “But I’ve heard it’s worth every bit of effort!”
Everyone around her voiced their agreement. They were the pioneers, the explorers, and the desperate. They didn’t need convincing.
One particularly stormy night, the ship pitched violently, tossing them against the sides of their cramped cabin. Susan clutched Petey tightly to her chest, his small frame trembling. Jane’s face was pale, fear etched across her face as the ship groaned under the weight of the waves.
“Hold on!” Peter shouted over the roar of the wind, his voice strained but steady. He moved to comfort the women, wrapping an arm around each of them. “We’ll be all right!”
After what felt like hours, the storm finally stopped, leaving the ship eerily quiet. The family climbed the stairs and stepped onto the deck, the air around them thick with mist. The moon illuminated the waves, and the sight took Susan’s breath away—there was a beauty to the chaos that was both haunting and mesmerizing.
“Look!” Jane gasped, pointing toward the horizon where flashes of lightning still flickered in the distance. “The sea has a strange kind of magic.” This was the first time since they’d boarded that she felt at ease on the water. She reached for her sister’s hand and squeezed it.
As the weeks passed, the boredom of ship life began to settle in. They developed a routine: rising with the sun, enduring the meager meals, and finding moments of joy amid the discomfort. They played simple games with Petey, telling him stories of farms and flowers, trying to fill his mind with dreams of the life that awaited them.
Still breastfeeding, Petey was the only one of them maintaining his weight. Naturally, Susan was the one losing the most flesh, being the one to sustain the infant.
During the day, they would join other families on deck, swapping tales of their lives back home and their hopes for the future. Among their companions were the Thompsons, a cheerful couple with a knack for storytelling. Mr. Thompson entertained them with tales of his youth, and the others would laugh heartily, the sound lifting their spirits.
“Life in America will be grand!” Mr. Thompson proclaimed, his eyes twinkling. “Why, my cousin has a farm that produces the finest apples and wins prizes for them every year! You’ll find your own opportunities around every corner!”
One afternoon as Susan and Jane stood at the railing, the wind whipped through their hair as they watched the sea stretching endlessly before them. “Do you think it will be as wonderful as they say?” Jane mused, her gaze fixed on the horizon.
“I hope so,” Susan replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But even if it’s hard, we’ll face it together.” She noticed a tear slip from her sister’s eye, and put a hand on hers. “What is it, Jane? Are you afraid?”
Jane took a deep breath and straightened her back. “No, not really. Apprehensive, of course.”
“Then what is it?” Susan persisted, squeezing her sister’s hand.
Jane sniffed and then raised her hand wiping the tears off of her cheeks. “It’s stupid. But sometimes I miss him.”
“Fred?”
“Yes. He seemed a good man, and he treated me kindly.”
“It was unfair, but I’m sure his father was behind it.”
“Still,” she replied. “He could have fought for me. Even if his father had disowned him for it, the two of us could have run away together. If…”
“If what?”
“If he had truly loved me,” she finished.
Susan sighed. “You could be right about that,” she said gently.
“Do you think Peter would have done that in Fred’s place? I mean if it were you and a choice between his father and you?”
Susan wasn’t sure what to say, what would hurt her sister less. She decided to speak the truth. “Yes, I believe he would have chosen me.”
“So you think Fred didn’t truly love me after all?”
“I believe that he didn’t love you as much as he should have, as much as you deserved.”
Jane dropped her head, as if in deep sorrow. “I think you’re right.”
“But that’s good, in a way,” Susan interjected. “You found out his lack of true love before you were wed. To wed a man that doesn’t totally love you leads only to a life of misery. After all, remember mother and father?” Their father had been a drunkard who had regularly beat and then, finally, abandoned their mother.
Jane nodded. “You’re right. I was seeing just what I wanted to see in him. Maybe I didn’t truly love him either. Maybe I simply had foolish dreams of becoming a rich landowner’s wife.” She shook her head in dismay. “I was stupid!”
“No you weren’t. You were like any other young woman charmed with a handsome, rich man,” Susan said, encircling Jane’s shoulders in a hug. “Don’t worry. The New World is full of attractive young men. With your beauty, you’re sure to find one who will make you a fine husband.”
Jane hugged her sister back, her face now brightened by a smile. “Thank you, Susan. I’m hoping for just that!”
As the voyage wore on, the ship’s close quarters began to take their toll. The cramped conditions made it easy for illness to spread among the passengers. One morning, Jane awoke with a fever, her skin clammy and pale. Susan’s heart raced as she felt her sister’s forehead, her worry mounting.
“Peter!” she called urgently. “Jane isn’t well.”
He rushed to her side, concern etched on his features. “We need to find the ship’s doctor,” he said, determination filling his voice. Together, they helped Jane to the makeshift infirmary, a small room filled with the sounds of coughing and the smell of antiseptic.
The ship’s doctor was a weary man with tired eyes, but he examined Jane with a practiced hand. “It’s likely just a fever from the dampness on board,” he assured them. “With rest and care, she should recover.”
Days passed in anxious waiting, with Susan tending to Jane as best she could, spooning broth into her mouth and reading aloud from the Bible to soothe her. Petey, oblivious to the worry around him, played quietly at their feet.
Finally, after several days, Jane’s fever broke, and she slowly regained her strength. Susan watched with relief as her sister took small steps back to her usual self, a smile breaking through the paleness of her illness.
“I’m sorry for being such a burden,” Jane said, her voice still weak but steady. “I feared I wouldn’t make it.”
“We’re all in this together,” Susan replied, squeezing her sister’s hand. “You must take care of yourself. We can’t afford to lose anyone on this journey.”
As they approached the shores of America, a collective sense of anticipation filled the air. The passengers gathered on deck, eyes scanning the horizon for the first glimpse of land. The salty wind carried a fresh scent, brisk and new.
“Look!” Peter shouted, pointing excitedly. “There, on the horizon!”
The silhouette of land emerged, jagged and beautiful against the sky. Gasps of wonder rippled through the crowd as the ship drew closer, and they could finally see the outlines of buildings and trees.
“We made it!” Susan whispered, her heart racing with excitement and disbelief. “We’re really here!”
The ship docked with a jolt, and the passengers surged toward the walkway, eager to set foot on solid ground once more. As they disembarked, the bustling port of New York enveloped them—shouts of vendors, the clatter of carts, and the scent of fresh produce mingled with the salty sea air.
Susan held Petey tightly as they stepped onto the dock, her heart swelling with a mix of achievement and fear. The world before them was vibrant and chaotic, a whirlwind of possibilities and challenges.
“Welcome to America!” Peter exclaimed, his eyes bright with wonder. “This is our new home!”
As they ventured further into the crowd, Jane felt a surge of hope. The journey had tested them in ways she had never anticipated, but together they would build a life, forge new memories, and turn dreams into reality. The road ahead would be uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, she felt ready to embrace whatever awaited them.
As the Jacobs family disembarked from the John M. Chapman , the swarm of the bustling port city enveloped them. Susan clutched Petey tightly while Peter pulled her and Jane close, one under each strong arm. Jane’s heart pounded with a mixture of hope and anxiety.
Despite the time they had already spent travelling, there was much more travelling to come.
Peter had sent a letter from Liverpool to his uncle announcing that they were coming to America and another when the family arrived in New York. He planned to send a third when they left for the west on the wagon train. First, they would travel by train to Kansas City, Missouri, and then join a wagon train destined to Fort Laramie, Kansas Territory. There they would meet Paul. It would be a long journey, but well worth it in the end.