‘It doesn’t do, Esther, to tell the Commander what he should or should not do,’ he said firmly. ‘That would be a grave mistake. I believe Mason told me that you have a child back home and I promise I will make a case for you as best as I am able. I now understand how desperate you must be to return to your little girl. Please ask Jones to fetch Mason and we will do what we can.’ With this he turned and walked away.
I felt sick with apprehension. I knew that the good captain had my interests at heart and I knew he would do his best, but the unknown Commander who had my future in his hands might be the worst example of mankind: bumped up with his own importance, annoyed by a matter that could present legal problems for him.
Though I had no experience of great men honoured by high office, I did have experience of men who didn’t want to be bothered by women’s concerns, who were irritated by emotion and who would rather just sweep us aside. But, this man alone had the power here, he was the Commander; he could make decisions that lawyers would quibble over and eventually accept. Of course, I well understood that England was at war and that he had weighty matters to deal with from this important military outpost. Even so, I had to make him regard me and my repatriation as a worthwhile cause.
Chapter Thirty
Treatment for Pneumonia included bloodletting with one patient having 3.5 pints of blood let in 3 hours with the patient “rapidly proceeding to a fatal termination”
Diary of a Ship’s Surgeon
Everything was a-bustle at the quayside, with men shouting and running up and down the gangplank, from one end of the ship to the other, and up and down the rigging as the sails were dropped. Men in military uniform were very much in charge and there was a sharp exchange of words between the first mate and a man who seemed to be in control of mooring. Jones sidled up alongside me and we watched the unloading of barrels, boxes and crates. Captain Campbell followed, carrying a document box and accompanied by Prickship. I suppose I should call him Mason, as he didn’t seem like a ‘Prickship’ any more after his heroics with Mrs. Campbell. Clearly this was an important moment as they were both dressed in full naval uniform and there were whistles piping everywhere.
‘How long are we likely to be here, Jones?’
‘About five or so days,’ he said. ‘Long enough to take on supplies for the next leg. Food will be good here and when we get underway there’ll be better grub for a few weeks at least. After that it’ll go downhill fast on account of the heat.’
I continued watching the busy scene below me and was able to take in the beauty of this strange place with its great rock looming above us. There were military buildings everywhere but behind them I could also see white painted houses of low build. Many people were on the quayside, some clearly connected to the military even though they were not in uniform. They stood straight and tall with what I would call a military bearing. Some were clean-shaven, which was surprising to me, and others wore powdered wigs. There was a great deal of saluting, stamping and more whistle-blowing. I also saw some women who watched from the sides of buildings, as if they were reluctant to step into plain sight. They were darker of skin and all had black hair. I suppose women plied their favours here as much as they did back at home. Some of them were brightly dressed though I could also see some much older women who were dressed from head to toe in black.
The smell here was so refreshingly clean and every now and again I caught a drift of an aroma which I took to be that of plant life. Even the sea smelled good here within this port. I hoped the ship would be thoroughly cleaned before it embarked again but the greatest delight to me was the warmth: a blue sky with no clouds and strong sunlight that warmed the air as well as the ground. It was so invigorating, despite all the hectic bustle and activity.
‘Miss, Miss, excuse me, Miss,’ a young voice called. ‘Mrs. Campbell is asking for you to go to her cabin, Miss. She says to hurry.’ It was the young cabin boy who had found me crying that time up on deck and whom I had treated recently.
‘What sort of mood she in, boy?’ queried Jones.
‘Bad.’
We both groaned before making our way to the captain’s cabin. I knocked on the door.
It was yanked open and I was pulled into the cabin, the door flung shut in Jones’s face by an irritable Mrs. Campbell.
‘I have told the captain that you cannot be allowed to leave this ship,’ she shrilled, hysterically. ‘You are listed as a convict and no matter what anyone says you will have to go on to Australia with us.’
‘I am no convict, Ma’am,’ I replied, ‘and I will get off this ship, one way or another.’ I looked at her, furious that she would try to keep me from my child because she did not care to look after her own. She looked a mess, her hair bedraggled, milk stains at her breast, and hollow-eyed. Charlotte was in the cradle and she was mewling insistently but her mother made no attempt to tend her. Instead she crumpled onto her bed and burst into tears.
I went over to the baby and picked her up, her tiny lips puckering. ‘She needs feeding,’ I said and pushed her into her mother’s arms.
‘I’m so tired, I can’t do it anymore,’ she wailed in return, dumping Charlotte beside her on the bed.
I didn’t like Mrs. Campbell, but at that moment I did feel some sympathy. She didn’t know how to be anything other than selfish. Charlotte was less than two days old, yet her mother looked as though she had a brood of children at her feet, not just the one new-born. I picked the baby up and suggested that she go and have a wash and do her hair; that once she was feeling more herself she might relax, and the milk would come more easily as the baby suckled.
She did as I suggested while I nursed the little mite who was sucking on my finger. After a good while, we both sat quietly as I put Charlotte to her breast again. She latched on immediately and Mrs. Campbell dropped deeper into her chair.
‘Please don’t leave me,’ she said, her voice quavering as she spoke.
‘Have you considered returning to London? Have you family who can help?’
‘I have, but we haven’t got a home. I would have to lodge somewhere,’ she sniffed.
‘Your husband must be able to provide for you both,’ I said. ‘You could hire a maid until you get back on your feet.’
‘I don’t like him travelling without me. Other women, you know,’ Mrs Campbell trailed off. ‘They are everywhere, and sailors – well, I am sure you have heard the phrase: a wife in every port.’
‘Has the captain ever given you reason to think like that? He seems such an honest and kind man.’
‘All men are like that, and more fool you if you think otherwise.’
As I watched her, I had the ghost of an idea. Tentatively, I broached a suggestion that I thought would benefit both of us, as well as the child.
‘Why don’t we try and help each other?’ I went on. ‘I need to return home, and if I were to agree to act as your nursery maid and take care of Charlotte while you recover, we could go back together to London. Such a solution might give the Commander reason to be generous and I think the captain would be happy with that idea too. You would be better off in my care – going on to Australia with a baby sounds extremely hazardous to me and I don’t think you will cope alone.’
She sat in silence. I waited for her to agree or disagree, but she said nothing. Eventually I rose and left the cabin. A wave of despondency washed over me.
Prickship knocked on my cabin door later that evening and I invited him in, wondering if he had some news.
‘The captain has raised your situation with the Commander and I am sorry to say it is not very encouraging.’ He sounded angry. ‘The Commander says he hasn’t got the authority to act as judge and jury and feels it would create a hornet’s nest. What’s more to the point, he is angling for promotion and doesn’t want to create a reason to be turned down. The man is damned lily-livered and needs some backbone. I am sorry to bear this n
ews, Esther. I know how badly you need to return.’
I broke down in front of him, and as tears streamed down my cheeks, it was but a moment before he was putting his arm around me. I felt so weak and wrung out that I couldn’t help leaning on him for support.
Gradually, I pulled myself together and dried my eyes, realising that it wasn’t right for me to be entertaining a man in my cabin unchaperoned, particularly as I was still termed a ‘convict’. It wouldn’t hurt his reputation – in fact, it would probably improve it - but it could seriously damage me, trying as I was to be seen as a respectable professional midwife, not a convict or a loose woman.
I thanked him for his kindness and as I reached to open the door, Jones was ‘standing guard’ and I caught a leer as he peered in and construed the situation in his own way.
‘Goodnight, Sir,’ I said, ‘and thank you for your kindness.’ (I’m sure I heard Jones splutter.) ‘I will think on what you have told me and speak to the captain in the morning. Perhaps I could accompany him onshore to meet the Commander?’
‘What are you doing here, Jones?’ Prickship snapped. ‘Haven’t you got work to do?’
‘Just checking the young lady is safe from bother, Sir.’
‘Well, get back to work.’
‘Aye, Sir. As you say, Sir.’
I was alone at last and collapsed into my chair to dwell on the setback.
Captain Campbell finally agreed that I could accompany him into the garrison’s headquarters the next day. It had taken a bit of persuasion on my part, but I felt he owed me this, at least - and his wife is not the only persuasive woman in his life.
I prepared carefully, wearing the borrowed dress and doing my hair like Sarah showed me. She had taken her mirror back but I could see myself in the shiny bowls. All dressed up, I sat and waited to be called. Jones and some of the sailors had gone into the small town; they were intent on finding a bar to make up for being on a dry ship. I had not seen any patients for two days from either the crew or convicts; the worry about fever had receded with no new cases coming forward. I was thankful but still ill at ease as to how it had developed in the first place.
Prickship had not visited me again but I expected he would accompany the captain and me when the time came. I had not heard any more from Mrs. Campbell and didn’t feel like approaching her again about my idea. I wondered how Charlotte was faring, though. I went up on deck a few hours after sunrise, without my chaperone. I was surprised to find so much ado but as I looked to the horizon, I saw sails approaching: clearly another vessel was coming into the port. They were making good headway with a fresh wind plumping their sails. I laughed to myself as I knew Jones would not approve of that term. I might tease him about plump sails when next I saw him.
I returned to my cabin, waiting anxiously for the summons, but it was a long time coming and I fretted continuously as to how I would persuade the Commander to step out on a limb for me. I resolved to behave as a lady would and let the captain take the lead. If, however, he was failing to make an impression, then I would interrupt and call on the Commander’s better nature, if indeed he had one. I practised phrases and reworked my thoughts repeatedly but only managed to reduce myself to a nervous wreck.
Finally, a knock came and Prickship was there. He said that the captain was waiting on the dock for me and asked me to follow him.
The captain took my arm and put it in the crook of his. I hoped his wife wasn’t watching.
‘Miss Coad, I trust you are well?’
‘Indeed, I am Captain Campbell, and how are Charlotte and Mrs. Campbell?’
He paused, searching for words, ‘my wife is learning to become a mother and it is not a natural situation for her, but she progresses. Charlotte is quite beautiful, and I am smitten with her,’ he smiled down at me. ‘I feel so proud to be the father of such a beautiful child.’
I smiled back but watched his face change from great happiness to that of someone about to impart bad news. I prepared myself to hear whatever worrying words he had to say.
‘Now, Miss Coad, if I might offer you some advice, I would tell you to behave as your patroness would do, with quiet dignity and no harsh words if it can be helped. The Commander would like to think of himself as magnanimous, so it would be better for us to lead him to a decision rather than tell him what it should be. Do you understand me?’
‘I do, indeed, Captain,’ I said. ‘I will try to keep my emotions in check.’
‘Good, then let us proceed - in hope, my dear, in hope.’
It was lovely to stand on firm ground once more though I suddenly felt a little wobbly. I stopped and stood still for a moment as I got used to the sensation before saying, ‘I’m sorry Captain, I feel a bit unsteady. I won’t take a moment. We mustn’t be late.’
Captain Campbell laughed and squeezed my arm within his. ‘Don’t worry my dear, everyone has to get their sea or land legs back. After the trip to Australia, it takes quite some time, but here you will acclimatise in a few minutes.’
I took a few deep breaths and felt uplifted by the lovely floral scent drifting on the breeze. ‘Right, I am ready,’ I said, walking on.
The garrison headquarters were well-appointed, with regimental tapestries adorning the walls as well as swords and other war-like paraphernalia on display, reminding me forcefully that we were at war. I also noticed a rude caricature of the man who was such a threat to the British Isles, Napoleon Bonaparte. We were shown into a large room where there was a magnificent desk as well as trestles with charts stretched out. A young man, with a quill at the ready, stood beside the Commander who was of upright bearing and sprouting a fine set of whiskers.
I searched his face and my heart sank for I could find no empathy in his demeanour. In fact, I saw myself through his eyes as a deranged woman who was daring to intrude into his important world and take up his precious time. He welcomed the captain and Prickship with a handshake but ignored me.
To his credit, Captain Campbell took me by the hand and introduced me as a woman of great skill who had saved the lives of many on his ship and who deserved to be heard in her justifiable request of being returned to London at the earliest opportunity. He continued explaining that I had been subjected to horrendous wrongdoing and had proved myself to be a victim of mistaken identity and not a convict.
‘And how did this proof come about?’ The Commander’s tone was brusque. ‘Speak up, Miss, tell me how you think you have proved your case?’
This was my moment – I stepped forward and steadied my voice. ‘There is a woman on board, Sarah, who knew me from before as midwife to my patrons, Cecilia and John Elwood. She had seen them in court and heard details of my case when I was found not guilty of the murder of a work colleague whose child I am now responsible for. The Elwoods paid for my defence and I now live in their home and care for their children. I am their governess and nurse,’ I continued, worrying that my mention of a murder charge would destroy my case. ‘The charge of murder was deemed a malicious act by my ex-employer.’
He was fiddling with bits of paper on his desk and I felt he was not listening, so I spoke in a louder voice as I told him that there were two men in his lockup who had admitted smuggling me on board at the behest of my aunt, at the same time removing two street walkers.
‘Is that the sum of your proof?’
‘My skills show that I am not a street woman,’ I said, proudly.
‘I understand that your supposed patrons are familiar with his Highness, the Prince of Wales?’ The Commander asked, after a pause.
‘Yes, they attended his marriage,’ I said, ‘and are, on occasion, of his party at the races in Lewes.’ He seemed more interested in this trivial point, so I carried on. ‘Cecilia Elwood is the daughter of an earl. Her parents are close to the Court, her mother, Lady Harriet, a confidante of the Queen.’ This was a lie, but I didn’t care.
I broke off as
a young man came into the room. He approached the clerk and whispered in his ear, who then whispered into the Commander’s ear. There was a buzz of noise behind me.
‘Silence,’ he ordered. ‘I have pressing business to attend to. Captain Campbell, I have no time to address this at present. You will kindly wait in the room next door with this young woman.’
I couldn’t bear any further delay and pushed myself towards this self-important man. I would beg if I had to. ‘Please, Sir,’ I said, tearfully, ‘my child might even now be in danger of corruption or death at the hand of my aunt’s smuggling gang. Please let me go back to London. Please…’ I broke off at a disturbance behind me as I felt, as well as heard, many hurrying feet enter the room.
A voice, a commanding voice, suddenly rang out: ‘Esther, Esther Coad, it is you! My God, I was shocked beyond belief to hear that you might be here. I had to come and see for myself.’
I turned in the direction of the voice, a voice I knew and revered. Flushing with disbelief and pleasure, I saw Dr. Grieve striding toward me. For a moment everyone else stood stock still, and I felt like we were the only two people in the world. Was I in a dream, about to wake up at any minute?
‘Dr. Grieve,’ I gasped, as I felt the room sliding away from me. Prickship, always nearby, pushed a chair under me and stood with his hand firmly and possessively on my shoulder. I had no eyes for anyone but Dr. Grieve; the whole room might have been empty for all I cared. I stared at him, he was so very different in his manner and looks. His skin was brown and attractively weathered; there were gold lights in his hair and beard intermingled with the grey I remembered; his eyes seemed clearer and bluer than they were before. He looked so very different, his body lean and elegant in a uniform that must be part of the naval command he was serving with. He had lost that tired and peevish look he usually wore.
The cold voice of the Commander intruded through the fog that had taken over my brain.
Retribution Page 16
