The Diary of M.E.H. <3

[Molly Howe]

[[The Diary of MEH]]

This is the private diary of Mary Esther Howe, born on the twenty-third in the February of the Year of Our Lord 1756, in Nottingham, England.

From flight to pen
From thought to paper
I vow to write all I ken
This is my secret
These are my own words

--M.E.H.

[Molly Howe]

August 15, 1776

It is a funny thing that I should be so keen a writer, but never think to keep a journal. Luckily for me, Father has made a fine suggestion. So, that is how I came to purchase such a fine leather diary for the purpose of writing whatever is on my mind.

And what a large amount of thought is on my mind of late. What a large amount of thought has been on my mind for this past year!

Perhaps the men were more aware and cautious of war, but I was not enlightened to such politicks as these. Was I to know that civil war was brewing? I should very well hope not! For I would never want to speculate the coming of war lest I be condemned a bringer of misfortune as women are sometimes found to be.

And now! And now that war is upon this beautiful country I fear to hope for both sides. What quiet secrets I spill onto rough parchment, but I am relieved that it will not in turn spill my secrets to another. But, it is true. I know where my allegiance must lie, but I am finding much difficulty in placing fealty in that alloted space.

I cannot dismiss the wrongs my country has done to these colonies. And I cannot defend my country in all cases. But I am of the belief that my country is stronger than these disunited colonies and will come up with a solution in the end. But I fear the means to the end. I fear much in these days.

I fear for my family and I fear for my friends. Pressure is building inside the hearts and souls of the rebels, I can feel is as if it would burst and throw me aside, back into the ocean which I crossed. I feel the pressure everyday from the colonists. I know they must curse me in their sleep because I am against them. But I am not so against them that I fight them with musket and sword as my father does. Oh! But that is right. I am who my father is, and the sword he brandished is my own. What unluck!

But sometimes I wish that this whole land was not living as Montagues and Capulets. I have lost many friends and potential friends to the fact that I am a Montague and they Capulets. Not all of us have the courage to die as Romeos and Juliets. It forces me to wonder. Would it be worth playing the role of Juliet if I were to find a Romeo? I shall not answer that because I shan't be able to until I am faced with the actual thing. And I am hesitant to wish myself in such a situation.

-Molly