Mayflower Screwballs VII

Madame's Nightshirt
Mrs. Peperium

Part I, II, III, IV, V VI Part VII

At Sea
Day 15

Dearest Diary,

I have been most remiss with my correspondence as of late. But once I fill you in you will understand why.

The last sighting of land, our once beloved England, was more than 8 days ago. The next sighting of land shall be Virginia, our new and, with great hope, beloved home. The ship we are traveling on is not the one we had hoped to travel on but our accomodations are more than suitable. Since the Prince of Wales was not counted among our traveling party, Lord P was able to secure the stateroom usually reserved for him. The chef is much better than expected. His cucumber sandwiches are a thin as a whisper and Father M. has grown very fond of them. He and I have tea every afternoon in our suite with the lovely Miss de Vannier, or Christine. Our friendship has progressed so quickly that we already employ Christian names. She is very beautiful. And very good and devout girl, though French. She did have a romantic entanglement with a man very unworthy of her, and most other women as well. This is why she is with us : She wants to forget him and find a new life in the New World. Father M. convinced her to join us. I am so glad he did.

It is my great hope that Miss de Vannier will help in fulfilling the deathbed promise I made to my dearest friend from convent school days, dear sweet Caroline. Caroline, as you recall was Sir Basil Trelawny Seal's beloved first wife. Caroline loved Basil deeply but her love did not blind her to what a weak man he was. She understood without her firm but loving hand to guide him here on this earth Basil would fall into great wickedness. While in the grasp of Death's hand, she made me promise her that I would find him a suitable wife and if I could not, get him into the nearest monastary. Basil has gone on to do exactly what Caroline believed he would do. A few years back, he was nearly killed by James I's own guards when he was discovered to be Lady Glamis' gentleman of the Bedchamber. Thankfully, Lady Glamis was very fond of Basil and she was a most excellent liar. She persuaded the King it was not Basil who visited her in her bedchamber but Sir Walter Raleigh. Raleigh, a consummate gentleman who understood the Spanish wanted him dead, allowed his head to fall into the executioner's basket marked for Basil. Basil did not learn from that most near of escapes. He moved on to of all women, Lady Katherine Manners. She, who was already bethrothed to the Marquess of Buckingham. Goodness, how my Lord P tried to talk him sense into him. But to no avail. Basil was too caught up in Lady Manners' charms to see what danger he had placed himself in. When the Marquess of Buckingham, on his wedding night no less, had to endure the great embarassment of witnessing his bride withdraw from his touch, break down in a fit of uncontrollable tears, confess that her bedchamber had been visited almost nightly for the preceeding 2 years by Basil and that she could never love another man but him, it was curtains again for Basil. Basil has been hiding behind ours ever since. It was the very real threat of discovery by the Marquess that finally induced Basil to go along with us to the New World as our protector. My, how God does work in the most mysterious of manners, (no pun intended).

I'm quite convinced that Basil is not a suitable candidate for the monastary way of life as our late evening stroll on deck one of the first nights at sea proved. My Lordship and I were enjoying the beauty of a starry night and the calm seas when we passed by the cabin of a very pretty pilgrim girl who is making this voyage with us. Such strange sounds were coming from within that I asked my Lordship if we should offer the girl some assistance. He listened at her door and said, no that she was just suffering from mal de mer. Then he pointed out the oddest bird I've ever seen sitting on the rail of the ship. He said it was called a dodo bird. As he was taking me over for a closer examination of this most crazy of feathered creatures, suddenly, it seemed the pilgrim girl's illness took the most sudden of violent turns. She made great screams of agony. My Lordship tried to move me down the deck and away from her cabin but I was resolute in trying to offer the poor thing assistance. Then, she went quiet and I believed Death had carried her off. The cabin door opened and out popped Basil, slightly untucked. He said nothing. My Lordship asked "Are the rough seas having an affect?" Basil, said, "Yes." And immediately headed off in the opposite direction towards the ship's infimary to get her a sleeping powder my Lordship surmised. I must admit surprise that the Pilgrim girl's strict Protestant upbringing has given her such little fortitude.

Basil needs a wife. And I believe Miss de Vannier would make him a lovely one. Yesterday, under the pretense of hanging embroidered curtains in Basil's room --he thought me quite mad when I asked if I may-- I checked all of his effects for any traces of Lady Manners. Not one letter, lock of hair, or scented hankerchief of hers have followed him into the New World. His heart is not engaged. I do hope we have a shipboard wedding. I've consulted with chef and there are enough carrots and marzipan in the larder for a proper cake. The wines will be taken from my own Lordship's private reserve I had my maids hide in the hollowed-out posters of the beds brought along for our new home. We shall give them one of those beds too and some of the other furniture as well. The brandy can come from the stores in the two grandfather clocks. As for Christine's trousseau, she may take from my chests whatever she wishes.

To be continued...

Comments

[Andrew Cusack]

Mrs. Peperium, last night I dropped into the club and asked the barman in the tap room for a Mayflower Screwball and he'd never heard of it! Please tell us, how does one create a Mayflower Screwball?

[Mrs. Peperium]

Ah...how does one create a Mayflower Screwball? Well, first your blood must be off for at least 200 years to get the shaking absolutely spot on...it's all in the hips in spite of whatever the barman advises. Then in a shaker, over cracked ice pour 3 parts dark rum, 1 part fresh lemon juice and one part Cointreau, shake to a Fox Trot, strain and serve in a cocktail glass or large sun-bleached Quahog shell with a bit of purple around the edges....

[Mrs. Peperium]

Andrew, were you in the comapny of your father, a man I could have dated, when you ordered the Mayflower Screwball? He must think we are certifiable...which a few of us are...

Next time a barman has the boldness to say he has no idea what a Mayflower Screwball is, change your order to a Mayflower Madam.

I'd love to see what he comes up with...

One of the most disappointing things that has ever happen to me was when I had accompanied Mr. P on a business trip to NYC. (Before children and Catholic days). My mother came into the City that Sunday and we went to St. Thomas on 5th for morning services and then did some genealogical work, lunch and can't remember what else. As we were cooling our jets in Peacock Alley at the Waldorf awaiting her train back to the country, Mr. P suggested we have cocktails. As we were seated about 12 ft away from Cole Porter's piano, I ordered a Sidecar. The barman had no idea what a Sidecar was and had to look it up...

He mixed a nice one but, it had lost its taste for obvious reasons. Soon, I'm going to learn the ladies at perfume counters lie to make a buck. I'm quite convinced of this.

[Old Dominion Tory]

A delicious recipe, Mrs. Peperium! I know I have a couple of shells about the house. Of course, you would receive extra points from Irish Elk and I if you stirred the drink with a walrus tusk.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Instead of a walrus tusk, how about a boiled yet empty lobster claw?

Apparently Gov. Bradford tired early on from on the dining of lobsters. The lobsters were so plentiful that the pilgrims just gathered them at the beach's edge. I think the problem with the dining upon lobsters was the pilgrims did not bring cows with them so they did not have drawn butter to enhance the flavor.

It was the first Puritan Migration boat with John Winthrop party aboard that brought the first cows to Plymouth Plantation. The pilgrims went for about 6 or 8 years without dairy products. That would be rather tough on English people, if you think about it.

I believe the Dutch brought cows with them to New York and of course Jamestown had them...

[Old Dominion Tory]

The empty lobster claw would suffice, I suppose. I think it was the denizens of the poor house in Plymouth who were the first--and perhaps the last--Americans to complain about being served too much lobster.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Nope. Mr. P is the last American to complain about being served too much lobster...he's had it about 5 times in the last 18 years if memory holds....

[Andrew Cusack]

Oh we definitely had cows quite early on. In fact, the Dutch used to herd their cows over to Governors Island to graze during low tides. The Buttermilk Channel (separating Govs Island from Brooklyn) has since been dredged to aid shipping, so this is now longer possible.