The Americas - A Second Attempt
Both in Ireland and in Scotland the control exerted by the Bishops was becoming intolerable. There seemed no end in sight of the restraint placed upon preaching. Livingstone, along with other clergy and lay people, decided to make a second attempt at a fresh start in the Americas.
It was hardly surprising then at the number of clergy and lay people who intimated their intent of accompanying him on his voyage to New England, including his best friend Robert Blair with his wife and new born child. As a result, they had a ship built specially for the purpose. The Eagle Wing, a vessel of 150 tons, was built near Belfast with the intention of sailing in the Spring of 1636, but due to unforeseen difficulties in its preparation, it was September before they finally departed.
Livingstone took advantage of this delay by paying a visit to Lanark to say his farewells to his father as well as retracing many of the places he frequented as a lad.
Janet, heavily pregnant with her first born may well have been pleased at this deferment, for on the 30th June, she gave birth to their son, John. The following day, Robert Blair baptised the child at their home.
Armed with letters from the Governor and Council of their proposed new homeland extending them an invitation to come over with the promise of good accommodation, the party set sail as the ship slipped anchor in Lough Fergus on the 9th September, 1636. Contrary winds bedevilled the sailing at first, which caused them to seek shelter in Loch Ryan, Scotland.
The captain, Andrew Agnew took advantage of this early respite to beach the vessel in the Kyles of Bute to seek out and repair some leaks in the hull.
(At this point in the narrative I take it up as recorded by Robert Blair. It contradicts Livingston`s account at this juncture. Blair maintained the master of the vessel, without naming him, was faint hearted in as much that he sought out all manners of excuses to delay their departure. The reason for the run in to Loch Ryan was to secure some extra cordage which he felt was necessary. Next the ship was beached in the Kyles of Bute puportedly to seek out a dangerous leak the master maintained was present.
(Blair reported that no such leak was found save in the master himself. The ship was so grounded that for several days she would not refloat herself on the tides. The master was accused of treachery and was summarily dismissed from his post to be replaced by another more experienced man.)
Livingstone had often confided to Janet his doubts as to whether they would ever reach their American destination, this before they had even set sail. "...I laid not so great hold on that as thereafter I found reason to doe."
After these delays, the ship once more got underway and made great headway with favourable winds, reaching a point, `three or four hundred leagues from Ireland, and so nearer the bank of Newfoundland than any part of Europe.`
The progress was soon arrested for the weather changed for the worse with the wind coming from the north east increasing in ferocity with every passing minute.
Storm
Livingston recalled, "but if ever the Lord spake by His winds and dispensations, it was made evident to us that it was not His will that we should go to New England; for we foregathered with ane mighty horecain out of the north - east that broke our rudder, which we got mended by the skill and courage of captain Andrew Agnew." The unfortunate individual, with a line about his person had to plunge into the raging torrent to effect the repair.
All the while the mountainous seas were breaking over even the topmost parts of the ship. The fury of the storm wreaked terrible damage to the vessel - sails shredded, mast split, a main beam fractured, and deck planks sprung, a result of which all between decks were drenched.
Livingstone accounted, "We sprung a leck that gave us 700 stroak of water in two pumps in the half-hour glass."
Blair, in his biography described the storms with the words, "Oh what mountains, not waves, of sea did we meet! The swellings of the sea did rise higher than any mountains we had seen on earth, so that in the mid-day they hid the sun from our sight".
Though their plight was desperate, all aboard remained strong in their faith that, despite their physical discomforts, the Lord would see them safely through.
All night the ship lay deep in the water as the wind and seas continued their torment of it and its passengers. As daylight broke, the captain informed them that it was impossible to hold out any longer as, should they be fortunate to survive the present storm, to be sure more could be expected before reaching their destination this time of year.
The misery between decks was heartrending. Young mothers with their clothes clinging to their bodies as only wet garments can, trying to comfort wailing, frightened children equally soaked, with hunger and sea-sickness alternating in the torment of their bodies.
Aged passengers, huddling into shawls that only gave a token of their warmth, their faith stretched to the limit as they wondered why they found themselves in this plight. Was the escape from the prelacy and all its dictates, and the promise of new freedoms of worship worth this misery? Cold, extreme in its intensity and with no escape from it, was their constant companion.
The men folk, including the ministers began doubting the wisdom of the voyage. All agreed that the bad weather was to be expected as a result of the delay in their departure, but none anticipated the severity of it.
Livingstone, after taking stock of their plight, told the assembled leaders it would be presumtious of them to take these present conditions they were experiencing as a sign that God had ill-advised them to make the journey in the first place.
If the calm and a fair wind did not return within twenty four hours, then they should take it God did not intend them to proceed. This found unanimous agreement. That day and night the storm raged fiercer than ever. All the while the ship strained to give them protection. The creaking timbers, defying the elements to pull them apart, groaned with every lurch as the ship struggled to remain afloat.
Prayer was their only comfort with the ministers doing their utmost to provide them with this consolation.
On the morrow, the winds died down and the seas subsided. The leaders were as one in ordering the captain to turnabout and head for home with a reduced sail capacity. This he did, and on the 3rd November, the ship returned to Lough Fergus.
The behaviour of the passengers was warmly praised by Livingstone when he quoted, "During all this time , anidst such fears and dangers, the most part of the passengers were very cheerful and confident...some expressed such hopes that rather than the Lord would suffer such ane companie in such sort to perish if the ship should break, he would put wings to all our shoulders, an carry us safe ashore."
In his report on the voyage, Livingstone described how, despite the rigours experienced by the travellers, only two deaths occurred, these being one child and an elderly person. Both were buried at sea.
One lady, the wife of Michael Coltheard of Killinchy parish, gave birth to a child that he had baptised and given the name, Seaborn.
Mrs Livingstone had gone aboard with their son, John aged 14 weeks who was still being breast fed. The lady had such a sufficient abundance of milk that she was able to supply other babies` needs.
Having invested much of their cash and possessions into the purchase of the ship and provisions for the venture, the resale of these on their return incurred them a considerable loss. Servants for fishing and building in the new lands had to be dispensed with as well.
Despite these losses, what grieved them most was they were likely to be mocked by those who viewed their return, viz, the prelates and their adherents. This proved to the contrary, the latter were much dismayed and feared their return.
