Retribution

by Beverley Elphick

  I had no cause to care for Mrs. Coad. I had spent months in their house under her direction and some of that had been no worse than other skivvies experienced. She was always a strict woman but as soon as Farmer Coad became interested in Becca she had changed for the worse and we had all felt her bitterness and anger. I felt conflicted now because I had suffered from gossip myself, most of which was untrue, but I suppose the difference was that I was alive and could still be hurt by it. I resolved not to waste my sympathy on a woman who had treated Becca so very badly. She hadn’t caused Becca’s death, but neither had she shown mercy to a young girl - barely a child herself - who was made pregnant by her husband repeatedly forcing himself upon her.

  When Becca’s waters broke, Mrs. Coad had just shoved her out into a storm and locked me in our attic bedroom. It still chilled me to the core to think of Becca giving birth alone in Hamsey Church, knowing that she had to get rid of the child if she wanted to keep her position. She had nowhere else to go; her stepmother wouldn’t take her in; if she stayed, she was likely to suffer further abuse at the hands of Farmer Coad and his two eldest sons whom I had overheard threatening her. It was in this terrible state of mind that she had given the baby up to the river, putting her in a cradle that she had made from reeds, and then, still weak from the birth, she had drowned herself. Becca had endured months of torment but towards the end she had been swayed in her actions by Farmer Coad reading from the Bible the story of baby Moses being found in the bulrushes. I found Becca’s body; it still breaks my heart to think of it. But I had saved her child, Beth, whom I had discovered, still in the cradle, and caught in the reeds. When I look back now on that dreadful day, I wonder if those events determined the beginnings of my desire to become a midwife.

  It was just a few days later, and Mrs. Coad must have been put into her coffin by then, that I found the youngest Coad boy hanging around the route that I took to Lewes. I pulled Flossy up and sat looking at him, waiting for him to address me. Once again, he asked, ‘How be the little gel?’

  ‘Beth, she is fine, and playing happily with Farmer Elwood’s son.’ I deliberately mentioned the Elwoods to remind the Coads that we were befriended and protected.

  ‘Me ma is dead.’

  ‘Aye, I heard. Is she buried?’

  ‘Yesterday we put ’er in the ground.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It must be hard for you.’

  He nodded and twisted his cap in his hands.

  ‘Did she suffer?’ I asked.

  ‘No, they made a tidy job of it.’

  I gasped, wondering if he was telling me that she had been deliberately killed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. After all, whether I liked her or not, she was his mother. ‘How have your brothers taken it, and your pa?’

  ‘They don’ care, no one cares, ’cept me.’ He turned and disappeared through the hedgerow leaving me wondering at what had just happened. Later, when Cecilia and I were alone in her sitting room and discussing the day, I told her about the boy’s visits and his strange comment. She was as shocked as I was and thought that I had misunderstood.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ I replied. ‘And there is gossip in Lewes that it was an unnatural death. Mrs. Makepiece told me, and Mrs. Jenkins told her, and she got it from someone who knows the replacement coroner.’

  ‘Well, if people were already speculating and the boy suggested that ‘they made a good job of it,’ it could be true, but who is he talking about?’ she asked. ‘Surely the brothers and father would not kill her?’

  ‘My first thought was that Aunt Tilly might be involved,’ I said with a tremor in my voice. ‘We know she is in the neighbourhood and has changed her appearance. What if she has been living at Coad Farm?’ I ventured. ‘The boy came and warned me to watch out for Beth a while back - he implied she was around. Perhaps Tilly is trying to start up the smuggling here again, and we know that the Coad family was part of the network. Perhaps Mrs. Coad didn’t want another woman in her house and made a fuss, then was got rid of?’

  ‘We can’t speculate, Esther,’ said Cecilia, after a while. ‘We don’t know anything, really. As you say, we don’t know whether Mrs. Coad’s death was murder and you can’t make a case based on the passing comment of a distressed young boy.’

  I didn’t sleep well that night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wednesday last a ship belonging to the French King of about 400 tons burthen, loaded with timber, called La Carpe, from Havre degrace to Brest was lost between Burton and Abbotsbury. The Country people, to the number of near 2000 came down with hatchets etc., and cut down all the masts, yards, rigging and sails, broke open the cabin, carried away 5 hogsheads of wine, took all the master’s chests, clothes, some silks and linens, barrels of herring and everything they could remove. They are the same fellows that plundered the money ship that came on shore there about 5 months ago.

  Sussex Weekly Advertiser and Lewes Journal 1750/1806

  No move was made against anyone in relation to Mrs. Coad’s untimely death and, as is usually the case, the gossip-mongers soon moved onto fresh fodder. I kept a close eye out for the youngest Coad boy, though; I felt some softening of heart towards him.

  One evening, I was alone in our rooms. Beth was sleeping in the nursery with Freddie as he was a bit miserable and wanted her for comfort. Cecilia was well and taking dinner with her husband and several town dignitaries and their wives. I knew they were to discuss the continuing local unrest and I was looking forward to hearing what was likely to happen. There were many advantages to living in such an important household, not all of them obvious! It being a fair evening, I went out to my little patch of garden and settled down to some weed-pulling, and, as often happened, the head gardener appeared and we had some conversation. I felt that he had an interest in me and I was very careful not to give him any reason to think I returned that interest; I had wanted no-one since Wilf. It is difficult to be friendly and not have that friendship taken beyond the bounds of polite behaviour, but I had to tread that thin line, which I seemed to be managing. But who knows what others think within themselves; look at how I had misunderstood Dr. Grieve. I had to keep aloof. Once he had gone - rebuffed but not insulted, I hoped - I sat back, turning over in my mind how my life was developing.

  Since Christmas I had been called in or involved in a number of the local women’s births. Steadily, I was being entrusted with the most important event in their lives – the birth of their children. I did my utmost to increase their confidence and reduce anxiety and pain. I wasn’t always successful but, in those cases, it wasn’t an outcome that I could have influenced. Childbirth could be a terrifying process and many women and children died, either during or after. My ladies, and that is what I felt them to be in my heart, all benefited from my care, my knowledge and my efforts to instil cleanliness and reduce infection. Some women started their birthing at a point when I couldn’t attend them; but if I was called in prior to the birth, I could ensure that they knew how to make the best of their chances until I could get there. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than putting their trust in a Mother Midnight. One of the ladies, Eliza, had the makings of a sensible helper for me. I had no money available to pay her, but she was a kindly young woman and interested in what I did. She had a supportive family and could leave her own baby with her mother if she was needed. It was good to have a friend with the same interests - I didn’t feel quite so alone. I couldn’t do what I did though without support at home from Cecilia, practical work from Mary-Jane, and from Cilla who often looked after Freddie and Beth during the evening, the only time I could leave South Farm unless Mary-Jane was there. Between us we never left the children alone; one or two of us were always with them.

  Dr. Crabbe’s wife continued to assist me with documents and little notes with snippets of information she overheard from her husband. I was under no illusion that she was at risk from the w
rath of her odious husband. However, I suspected that she got quite a boost by thwarting him, so I didn’t feel too guilty at taking her help. She gave me knowledge, I gave her revenge. I think the same applied to Mrs. Jenkins; they were both important cogs in our little group. It was satisfying to all of us.

  My savings towards my own house and beds for mothers had not progressed far as very few of my ladies were able to pay me and I didn’t ask. I was surrounded by goodwill in the Lewes area, though; something that I had never experienced before, having been thought an object of notoriety rather than someone who does something useful to help people. It wasn’t only the women who valued me; their menfolk, the fathers of the babies, also acknowledged my part in helping their families and it was one such who warned me that I was again in danger. As I sat in the evening sun, a visitor suddenly appeared. It was May Higgins, the young woman who had called me to her ailing mother in North Street. Her ma had sent the girl to me again with a message asking me to visit as soon as I was able, but it wasn’t an emergency as last time.

  I couldn’t go for a day or two, but eventually I made my way to their cottage wondering what the problem could be. I hoped the baby I had delivered was thriving and that the mother wasn’t pregnant again. It is my belief that women and their babies thrive better if there is a gap of at least two years between each pregnancy. It was only my opinion.

  I knocked at the door and was invited in. Mrs. Higgins was feeding her baby and the smaller children were preparing for bed which involved spreading straw pallets on the floor. The older ones, excepting May, were all doing chores and were preoccupied with their washing for the prisoners in Lewes lockup. They were clearly successful as there was a great deal of clean clothing draped around and over bushes nearby. Some of the washing had great holes in it and the third eldest girl was attempting to sew the rents together, explaining that they got more money if they could do some running repairs. What an industrious family - but again their father was absent.

  Mrs. Higgins nodded to me to sit near her and spoke very quietly. ‘My Sam is living away, but he sometimes hears things. Mayhap it would be helpful for you to know what he hears?’

  Surprised, I answered, ‘Aye, tell me?’ I was curious how a stranger to me could have information that I would benefit from.

  She patted the child’s back, winding him. ‘He be around, living near - but not with, you understand - a gang of smugglers,’ she said, ‘and he heard that a woman who is setting up some new routes has been living nearby to Lewes. She be living with a family, where there be three sons.’ She looked up at me to see if I had understood.

  Instinctively, I grasped her arm as my stomach lurched at this confirmation of my worst suspicions. ‘The Coads?’ I whispered.

  She nodded. ‘This woman has moved in and the missus died, soon after, like. My man wanted you to know. He be grateful what you did for us, he says you should watch your back. It would be best if you was not to tell where you heard this.’ There was fear in her eyes as she spoke, and I nodded, both grateful and anxious for this knowledge.

  She changed the subject, nodding towards the baby. ‘He is doing well, he be that greedy I have trouble keeping ’m fed.’

  ‘Well, if you drink plenty you will have enough milk - the longer he feeds the better for you. Some people think that if you are feeding a baby, you are less likely to fall pregnant again.’ I said. ‘I don’t know if that be true but maybe it is.’

  ‘Aye, I’ve ’ad enough of babies for now and when my husband comes home from Kent, I does my best to avoid ’im.’ She laughed at my look of understanding.

  ‘Your girls be doing well, I see,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘I am that glad they have found a way to earn some money.’

  ‘They be good girls and puts all their earnings in the pot, so we can afford some meat on occasion. We get soup from the town and Mrs. Makepiece sometimes brings eggs. We are doing good,’ she said with great satisfaction.

  I patted her and said, as I took my leave, ‘I am grateful to your husband, thank him for me - and I won’t talk.’

  Once again, I slept uneasily. I wondered whether I should tell people - Farmer Elwood or the constable - what I had heard. But I couldn’t say where I had got the information from, so it would all sound a bit far-fetched. I resolved to keep an even closer guard on Beth and perhaps mention it later to Farmer Elwood. At times, I deliberately kept my worries to myself, anxious that if I was too much of a risk to his own family he might ask me to leave. Not many people would have put up with having me in their home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On Wednesday last great part of the roof of St. Anne’s Church in this town fell in and did great damage to the seats underneath, it was very providential it did not happen on Sunday in time of Divine Service, which if it had must inevitably have killed several people.

  Sussex Weekly Advertiser and Lewes Journal 1750/1806

  I had been so busy with Cecilia, Freddie and Beth, that I had neglected my herbs. I determined that I would spend the whole day outside in the kitchen garden with the children and try and get some learning into them about plant life and natural things. I wanted to teach them the names of some of my herbs and perhaps, with Beth, explain their uses and at the same time continue my thinning and weeding. Cecilia laughed at me and said that I was overly optimistic about their levels of attention, but I hoped that if I could make it interesting enough, I could combine work and play.

  Freddie was a very contented child and would sit and observe much more than Beth who wanted to flutter around like a butterfly. It was a challenge, but we managed the morning this way before I put them both down for their afternoon nap. It was such a precious time and I made the most of it, except that people of the household would keep coming and talking to me. I wished them away as I pulled and replanted, keeping my head down. Finally, Beth came to tell me that Freddie was awake and squalling for me so that was the end of that for the rest of the afternoon. We retired to Cecilia’s sitting-room where she could play with Freddie without taxing herself with lifting and carrying him. One of the games they liked best was making little camps with cushions under which they could play ‘peep’. How we laughed at Freddie’s enjoyment of this robust game. Cecilia told me that as a child she was never allowed to play games such as peep or hide-and-seek. She was expected to sit with her mama for about an hour a day and do needlework or listen to her mama read improving tracts that would instruct her in ladylike behaviour. The only time she played was when she escaped the confines of her mother’s attention to accompany her brother to the stables.

  ‘Surely you played with your nurse or your governess?’ I asked.

  ‘Everyone was too frightened of mama to misbehave and she had her own maids who would report any wrongdoing. My brother, however, could get away with anything and would never be told to sit and behave.’ She sighed sadly. ‘Anyway, that time is long gone, and Freddie and our new baby will play as well as learn.’

  We sat reflectively watching the children before I said, ‘Cecilia, I would like to take the children for a picnic down to the copse. It is in plain sight of the stables, but I think it would be better if we had someone with us. Do you think Billy could come? I don’t think he is quite so busy now with lambing at an end?’

  ‘Oh, I am sure they would enjoy that,’ she replied. ‘I’ll ask John. When do you want to go?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow, if the weather holds fine.’

  I hadn’t told Cecilia about my aunt likely putting up at Coad Farm. I wasn’t sure what to do and thought I would ask Billy if he knew anyone who went there regularly. Aunt Tilly surely wouldn’t be openly living there; she had a price on her head and she was too wily to put herself in danger from anyone outside the smuggling gang. If I told the local revenue men, I didn’t think they would catch her. Perhaps it would be better just to know where she was - within the house or farm - so that any search would be unexpected and
accurate. The other problem was that many people, including the law and magistrates, were in the pay of the smugglers. Once again, I wished Dr. Grieve was nearby to advise me and take charge; he would have caught her for sure. I didn’t want to worry the Elwoods until I had thought of a plan. I needed to talk to Billy - he was still my best friend and I could talk freely to him.

  The weather didn’t fail us and Billy took charge of the blankets, the basket of food and a selection of Freddie’s toys. We walked down to the copse, me carrying Freddie as Beth trotted alongside. She wanted to pick some of the daisies to make daisy-chains. It was a warm gentle day with puffballs of cloud sitting on the horizon but not interfering with the sun, just as I liked it. We settled down on our blanket and ate some of our picnic while Beth sat making her necklaces and Freddie played with his wooden toy horses.

  ‘Billy,’ I said, ‘have you heard aught about my aunt living with the Coads?’

  He looked at me in astonishment. ‘Na, yer fibbing me.’

  ‘I heard in secret that she was there before Mrs. Coad died and she is still there now.’

  ‘How d’yer know?’

  ‘I can’t tell you, but it is likely true.’

  ‘What yer thinking, then?’

  I liked that about Billy, he came straight to the point.

  ‘I need to know if it’s true,’ I said. ‘I’m wondering if we can find out what’s going on at Coad Farm, if she is hiding there, and whereabouts. There are barns and cellars as well as hayricks and all sorts of places where she could hang about and not be seen. She is not one to be in the house doing the washing and cleaning.’

  ‘An’ if we found out, what do we do?’

  ‘I think I would have to tell Farmer Elwood and perhaps he would bring in the militia, like he did before. I don’t trust the local people. Billy, do you know anyone who goes upriver to the Coads regular, like?’ I asked.