Retribution

by Beverley Elphick

  ‘Only the man who delivers there who took me with him one time. He might take me again if I asked. He was a good sort and said I could work for ’m anytime.’

  ‘Would they recognise you, do you think? You were at the trial and gave evidence.’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve grown some. I can make me look a bit different.’

  ‘Billy, the youngest Coad, his name is Job, but they call him Jo, keeps coming around,’ I said. ‘I think he spies on me and Beth and sometimes he just asks how she is. He told me, sort of, that someone there had killed his ma.’

  Billy looked troubled before saying, ‘He could be spying on you for his old man, trying to get you on his side so you get to trust him.’

  ‘He could be,’ I replied, ‘but it doesn’t feel like that. He is sort of lonely and he seems to want to talk about Beth, so I don’t know, or quite understand, where he fits in. And, don’t forget, it was him that told on the smugglers when me and Beth were rescued from Southease.’

  We talked around it for a while and once the children had finished the picnic we talked some more, but other than spying out the land at Coad Farm we couldn’t think of what else to do. I left it to Billy to try and find out what he could, but I made him promise not to go up there himself.

  ‘Don’t put yourself into any danger, Billy. You never know who’s working with the smugglers, and don’t tell Cilla.’

  The little puffball clouds were ganging up together and the sun, as it moved across the sky, was going to meet them, so we packed up the picnic and Billy carried Freddie as Beth and I trotted along beside him. It was true, he had grown some. He wasn’t the scrawny little lad I first met outside the workhouse; he was a well-fed and seemingly sturdy boy despite his early misfortunes. I couldn’t put him in any danger. I had no right.

  ‘Perhaps I should just ask the Coad boy outright,’ I said, ‘and see what happens?’

  ‘Let me see what I can find out first. I do know who the smugglers be,’ said Billy. ‘Everyone does.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Early this morning, three prisoners, said to be smugglers, detained for debt due to the Government, found means to make their escape out of Newgate, breaking the double braced iron bars of the second window over the gateway facing St. Sepulchre’s and by the convenience of ropes let themselves down from thence, and have not since been heard of.

  Sussex Weekly Advertiser and Lewes Journal 1750/1806

  Aletter came for Cecilia containing the worst kind of news: her mother, Lady Harriet, intended to visit on her way to Brighthelmstone. Since the Prince of Wales had taken up residence, it had become quite the place to see and be seen, reported Cecilia as she perused the letter, adding that the militia were camped nearby and the officers were very much part of the social life.

  Although Cecilia wasn’t looking forward to this visit, at least, as she said to me, it wouldn’t be for long, three days at most. Farmer Elwood looked very glum when she spoke of it. I think he worried that Cecilia would be whisked away again, and none of us wanted that as the pregnancy had settled down and she looked quite wonderful. The baby was due in September and it was now June, so we had a way to go, but no-one was taking any risks with her general health and well-being. The better she looked, the worse stood her mama’s case for her removal to Hadgwick Hall.

  I didn’t have time to keep worrying about her mother. She wouldn’t even be aware of me except as the governess of her grandson. I didn’t expect that Cecilia would tell her that I was the same Esther that she refused to have in her house before, so I decided to keep out of the way and if I were to meet her I would keep my head down and my mouth shut. I didn’t even know what you called someone from her station in life: Ma’am, your Ladyship, your Highness. Your Awfulness is what I would have liked to call her.

  As the day of Lady Harriet’s arrival drew near, the house was in complete uproar; all the rooms were being spring-cleaned and dust sheets removed. Mrs. Fisher was ordering food for the army of people who would accompany her. She travelled with no less than five servants as well as three friends, all nobility; in addition, each of these ladies had their own lady’s maid to prepare their clothing, dress them and tease their hair into the most elaborate of shapes. Freddie was to be presented within minutes of their arrival and I had to keep him clean and prepared from morning until whenever their carriages arrived, which could have been as late as evening. Farmer Elwood was quite disgruntled with all the upheaval but mainly because he too was obliged to keep himself available and couldn’t therefore be out on the farm where he was needed. Instead, he shut himself up in the farm study, with various workmen, his dairy manager and his agent all calling throughout the day; every time the door opened a cloud of smoke billowed out.

  I had promised to help Mrs. Fisher with some of the preparation of food the day before they arrived, and I gave her some of my herbs to improve her stockpot which could be quite bland. Every time I ventured into the kitchen I saw red faces and heard strained voices. A messenger arrived to tell us that her Ladyship’s cook, Monsieur Philippe, was accompanying the party and would require use of the kitchen for the duration of the visit. When Cecilia told Mrs. Fisher this, I thought she was going to collapse. I asked Cilla to prepare some restorative tea and a nip of brandy. The poor woman flopped into a chair and sat with her head in her hands, weeping.

  Gradually Cilla and I jollied her up with promises of support and help so there would be plenty of food ready before the party arrived. Then, if Monsieur Philippe wanted more or different dishes, we would make sure that all the basic ingredients were to hand. Orders had been sent out far and wide to procure produce that wasn’t available on the farm: fancy fruits, unlikely vegetables and even more meat than usual despite having our own fowl, coney, beef, and lamb. Fish from Brighthelmstone would be delivered on the morning of arrival, early, and kept ready for the fussiest of cooks. My room was commandeered for storage and I undertook to use the fire in our sitting room for anything that was needed that wouldn’t fit in the main household ovens and, as the room was ideal for proving of bread, I undertook the baking of it, which was a good idea as I have a lighter hand.

  Cecilia had given us menus for each day with the proviso that each might change according to the whim of her mother or her cook. It was a difficult situation for Mrs. Fisher, Cilla and the extra ladies brought in to help. The dishes would be far more elaborate than the family usually ate, even when entertaining.

  On the morning of arrival all was ready. The house had been dusted, polished, and adorned with the best fresh flowers the local markets could supply and some produce came from family friends who had hothouses. There was enough food prepared or in the throes of preparation for the most exacting of households. Mrs. Fisher was dressed in her best clothes; a black dress I had never seen before, with a new and very clean apron tied about her, and one kept as spare. There was much the same for Cilla who would also help with service; she had two aprons as well, one to wear when preparing the meals and another lighter, frilly one for serving. Billy-alone was called on to become boot boy and general household helper. He also had to open the carriage doors and help the ladies down. He had been given new breeches and a clean shirt and waistcoat and could be found admiring himself in the silver he was polishing. The breeches were a mite long, so I tacked them up and pulled in the shirt; he was skinnier than I had thought.

  Cecilia was in a state of anxiety and I had to force her to retire to her sitting room and trust in her staff and husband - if not for herself, then for the sake of her unborn child.

  Her Ladyship arrived during the afternoon and, with her entourage, was welcomed with tea and sweetmeats, all served beautifully by Cilla and Polly (who was borrowed from Miss Wardle for the occasion). Both girls looked a picture in their black dresses with white frilled aprons and caps.

  Freddie was produced and doted on by the ladies of the party and he rose to the occasion with win
ning smiles and cuddles. Grand-Mère was delighted with him and Cecilia flushed with pride at his good manners and behaviour.

  Fortunately, I did not have to meet any of the party, just keep everyone in readiness should they be called for. They only stayed for two days in the end and happily the cook was a genial body who fitted in with Mrs. Fisher’s plans and menus. He did make one or two changes to the presentation of the food and provided his own mix of seasonings for the game and fish; I must say his sauces were far superior to Mrs. Fisher’s. By the time the first day was over they were collaborating and learning from each other; my bread was praised, and my special teas admired, so I felt quite pleased that I had been able to contribute. One thing I was surprised to learn was that the ladies of the party did not eat fresh fruits and the cook showed us how to prepare them so as not to spoil the texture or colour in cooking. He told us that fresh fruits were considered unhealthy for the digestion. What nonsense, I thought. All in all, it went off well and her Ladyship seemed satisfied with her daughter’s style and standard of living after she had thrown open the doors of all the main rooms for inspection. She did suggest that Cecilia return home with her when the visit to Brighthelmstone was concluded, which could be in a week - or six weeks - depending on what company was to be had in that fashionable place. But she did not press the point when Cecilia declined, explaining that Farmer Elwood needed her at home to run his busy household. Farmer Elwood looked so much happier than he had of late and resumed his daily outings on the estate.

  Billy-alone didn’t want to give his smart clothing back but was slightly appeased when I explained that it would be kept in readiness, should he be required to join the indoor staff in the future. Young Polly returned to Miss Wardle with tales of fine food and wonderful colours and hairstyles that adorned the ladies’ heads with feathers and ornaments and even bits of fruit pinned into great sweeps and curls of hair. The ladies’ maids were an uppish lot, and no-one was sorry to see the back of them after they scorned the household’s facilities, its furnishings, its food and inhabitants. Excluding Cecilia and Freddie, nobody else was good enough.

  My impression of Cecilia’s mother softened and, even though I did not meet her, I got the feeling that she had her daughter’s well-being at heart, and she loved little Freddie, which made me think better of her, but I was glad when she left and the household returned to normal.

  After the visit, Cecilia called all her staff together to thank them for their help in making her mother’s visit a success. As she had no need to do so, they were greatly appreciative, especially as there was a lot of food left over, some of which found its way into their own families’ welcoming hands; everyone benefited from the Elwoods’ entertaining. I had heard tell that other families would rather throw leftovers in the pig swill than give them to their servants.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jugg’s Road, Lewes, once part of the coach road to Brighton, named after the baskets, or jugs, of fish which used to be carried by fisherwomen from Brighthelmstone for sale in the market of Lewes.

  The Coach Roads to Brighton by Geoffrey Hewlett 2014

  I so often wished we knew where Dr. Grieve was. I had been in sore need of his advice and Dr. Crabbe did not fill me with confidence. Things had been going so well with Cecilia’s pregnancy until she called me to her bedroom to say that there was some bleeding. The baby was not due for about two months, so I listened for the heartbeat which was easily heard and strong. I also examined her and could see no excitability of the tissue, so had no easy or immediate answer to her distress.

  We called Dr. Crabbe in and he came promptly but his manner in general was not enough to make us think he knew what he was about. If the decision had been left to me, I would have advised immediate rest in the hope that things would settle down, but he wanted to bleed Cecilia to rid her of bad humours. I couldn’t see how this would help and, knowing that Dr. Grieve was not keen on the practice, I set about dissuading Farmer Elwood from agreeing to it.

  As it happened, Cecilia herself refused to submit to being bled, having been present when we had all discussed the merits, or otherwise, of bleeding one evening around the supper table before Dr. Grieve had left us. Dr. Crabbe was extremely offended at this turn of events and left saying that he could not be responsible for a patient who didn’t heed his advice. I had stayed out of the way whilst he was in the house, not wishing to make him even angrier as, after all, we might need his services in the future. As soon as he had gone, I hastened to Cecilia’s room and set about calming her. I removed her many pillows and bolsters, laying her flat before raising her knees and feet. I made a posset from my herbal store that would not harm her but might calm her nerves and sat by her side until she settled into a deep sleep. When she awoke I proposed that she stay in bed until the small amount of blood had stopped and thereafter take things a lot easier. I listened to the baby’s heartbeat daily just to reassure us both and it never faltered so I hoped that the bleeding was just a temporary thing, maybe caused by the strain of her mother’s visit.

  I had no idea if this was so, but it seemed plausible enough to Cecilia so we both opted to believe it. In all, the loss of blood was probably less than a small measure and it was irregular of occurrence, but whilst it was happening we were not to know that, and I am thankful we took the least action. To my mind it was foolish to take blood when we were desperately trying to stop bleeding in another area of the body. I searched my pa’s notes on childbirth, and other than what I had done already, I couldn’t find anything else that would help; I felt angry again at Dr. Grieve for abandoning us to the mercies of a man that I thought a quack. I considered calling on one of the other physicians in the town but both Farmer Elwood and I remembered the doctor’s disparaging remarks about all of them. The entire household waited with anxiety and after two weeks with no resumption of bleeding, Cecilia was able to leave her bed and return to her sitting room. She would rise late, and I would bring the children to her and remain to ensure they did not get too boisterous. After our midday meal, she would retire to her bed for a nap, often with Freddie tucked up beside her. Farmer Elwood went about his business but didn’t leave the property at all, not even to go to Lewes, and we were always aware of where he was. Gradually we relaxed, and things went back to normal except that Cecilia rested more and didn’t attempt to lift Freddie.

  As I was occupied in the house continuously, I couldn’t go to the aid of any of my ladies; but my friend Eliza, who had fulfilled her earlier promise, kept in touch to let me know how they fared. She was unable, as yet, to do much but she was a sensible young woman and had watched and listened to me as I had gone about my business. She knew my standards of cleanliness and it was there that she was able to make a difference, as well as in the preparation of more nourishing food and drink for expectant mothers who were often too poor or too discouraged to try. Wholesome food could be made with a little effort, and the town soup kitchen was a boon. On occasions, I had brought eggs and milk for some of my ladies and showed them how to make food that was appetising and nourishing and much better for mother and baby than gin.

  Once I was sure that Cecilia was safe, and when the children were put to bed in the evening, I might venture out. I was so fortunate in having the maids to call on if I needed to, but I didn’t feel I could do that during the daytime. This made me fret, but there was nothing to be done about it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On Tuesday last died in childbed Mrs. Newnham, wife of John Newnham Esq., of Maresfield in this County eldest daughter of Dr. Russell of Malling near this town.

  Sussex Weekly Advertiser and Lewes Journal. 1750/1806

  At last a letter arrived from Dr. Grieve for Farmer Elwood and from the content it was clear that he was unaware of all that had been happening here in his absence. Apparently, he had been having an adventurous time on board a ship accompanying Horatio Nelson’s Theseus.

  Farmer Elwood was clearly captivated by th
e letter, as he kept reading excerpts of it to Cecilia. He glossed over why Dr. Grieve was on board a fighting ship, mentioning only that he was in company with the ship’s surgeon. That he was called upon to dress the wounds of men who were badly injured during an assault on the island of Tenerife in July seemed to have sparked exhilaration in both himself as well as his friend Farmer Elwood, who could barely conceal his excitement at receiving this first-hand account of a battle against the Spanish.

  This attempt to take the island for Britain was ultimately unsuccessful but it seemed of small matter compared to Dr. Grieve’s admiration for many of the men who were involved, including the man who repelled Nelson’s forces, a Captain Gutierrez, despite having fewer soldiers and relying on the island’s inhabitants and the contrary seas to withstand Nelson’s superior forces. Nelson was wounded and lost part of his arm in the battle and once the poor man was rowed back to his own ship, it was amputated and the discarded part thrown into the sea for the fishes to eat. All this was related by Dr. Grieve in the most excitable language and he was clearly taken with this young fellow Nelson despite the loss of so many brave men: he wrote of 250 dead and over a hundred wounded. I wondered how surgeons dealt with so many men while on a vessel that rocked and pitched with the waves. It made me shudder.

  The letter to Farmer Elwood was very long, and while it had found its way to us in a very short space of time, it was full of the sort of detail that neither Cecilia nor I wanted to listen to. I think he was very disappointed in us and took it off to share with someone who understood the ins and outs of battle strategy, even if the assault was a failure. I believe myself to be patriotic, but I also think of the lives lost, of the widows, sweethearts and orphans. Fighting the Spanish and the French was consuming our little island, with more and more boys and men sucked into the King’s forces. I can’t see war as glorious; and where a battle is fought to further Britain’s empire rather than protect its citizens, I didn’t feel I could applaud it.