Retribution

by Beverley Elphick

  ‘How are you, Cilla? We haven’t had a moment to talk. Are you and Billy still walking out?’

  ‘Aye, Miss Esther, we have an understanding and my parents do heartily approve of Billy. It’s good to see you up and doing at last,’ she carried on. ‘We have been so worried and poor Billy is blaming himself all the while,’ Cilla spoke indignantly.

  ‘Why is he blaming himself? He has done nothing wrong, far from it.’

  ‘He do know’d that, but he thinks if he had run harder or sooner he would have caught the mongrel.’

  ‘Don’t call him that, Cilla,’ I chided her. ‘He has rescued Beth from his own family and is risking his life every day that he has her. They would think nothing of beating him to death and what would happen to Beth without him to protect her?’

  ‘Me pa thinks ’e is long gone. No-one would ’ave put him up ’round ’ere, there be too many people looking for yer.’

  Cecilia interrupted. ‘That will do Cilla, poor Esther can’t take on any more problems. No-one thinks Billy’s at fault, so back to the kitchen now and tell him that from me.’

  Cilla left the room and Cecilia said, ‘Now Essie, we are alone, well nearly alone. We will make the tea and put our heads together. I so long to hear the story of what happened to you but I fear the telling will be long and we need to be thinking only of finding Beth.’

  I agreed. ‘Yes, I have had some thoughts and I think the likeliest plan is to find a childless couple who might have been persuaded to take in a little girl, perhaps being posed as a niece or grand-daughter. Young Coad was a delivery boy for my aunt’s gang. He will know many people in the depths of the countryside and he might have told them that his father was behind the request to take the child.’

  ‘Surely people wouldn’t do that, especially with the hue and cry?’

  ‘If they were part of the smuggling network hiding goods, why not hide a child, particularly if they wanted one of their own?’ I replied.

  ‘But wouldn’t people question that?’

  ‘Not if they had a good enough story: a niece maybe visiting whilst her mother recuperates from another birth?’ I was warming to my theme even though Cecilia looked doubtful. I went on, ‘Many people live in isolated places. It is those places where the smugglers hide their goods. They are unlikely to be able to read and it will be in their nature to be secretive and suspicious of strangers. Job Coad could have spun them a yarn and promised extra coin as well as a little girl to keep a wife happy.’ It all seemed as clear as day to me as I expounded my thoughts but Cecilia clearly wasn’t convinced.

  ‘When did you dream this up, Essie? It is quite a theory.’ She poured some tea before saying, ‘I suppose you could be right. Now I come to think of it, some of the tenants on my mother’s estates have never travelled, even to the next village. The only time they go anywhere is if there is a country fair or some such to draw them away from home, and that may only be once a year.’

  ‘It is not unlikely - people are obliged to work hard and haven’t got the time to be wandering about and it is possible only the men would go to a fair.’ We both sipped our tea, each thinking of the possibilities. I carried on, thinking aloud. ‘Women have to tend the animals and babies, probably in that order as the animals provide the food for all of them. It can’t harm to make enquiries.’ I looked up, before saying, ‘Cecilia, can we look at the estate maps? And then we could ask your agent, or better still, Billy, what he knows about likely places. Billy would be a good source of knowledge. He seems to know everyone, or he knows someone who knows everyone.’

  ‘Well, I know where they are, I’ll go and get them.’ She rose from her day bed with a new spring in her step which belied the pallor of her face.

  I poured more tea and fed Freddie with extra sweetmeats. They were very good, so he wasn’t too miserable at all the chatter and our ignoring him, and the baby was sleeping soundly. Two hours later, we had a list of all the isolated properties on the South Farm estate and the neighbouring farms as well. It ended up as quite a long list.

  Mr. Harvey, the agent who had taken over from Wilf, was too recent an employee to have knowledge of all the people on our list but his willing help and good sense helped narrow the options we were exploring as, at our request, he drew up a document with three headings: family with children, yes or no; family with known connection to smugglers, yes or no; family, unlikely.

  Seeing the places and names all noted down focused our thoughts and later, Billy and Farmer Elwood between them were able to supply details from one source or another. Towards the end of the day Farmer Elwood sent a message to the other nearby landowners requesting their help. A meeting of all parties, either owners or agents, took place early the following day at South Farm. Everyone seemed more than willing to help find Beth: they were all family men and must relate to the horror of what had happened.

  I spoke at the gathering and explained my theory that Job Coad must have accomplices, probably including a woman. I also emphasised that the Coad boy was protecting Beth, that he was not a suspect in her kidnap and must not under any circumstance be treated as a criminal. All the local knowledge quickly reduced the list, and with Mr. Harvey making all the corrections, it became much shorter. Several of the men were doubtful about my reasoning but as there was no other plan, they agreed to go along with whatever was decided.

  While the meeting took place, Cecilia had a visit from Mrs. Makepiece who was upset that I had not been in touch. I heard her voice as I walked from the library to the kitchen and rushed into the drawing room to explain myself. Once she had been filled in with some of the facts of my return and subsequent collapse, and then the plan of how we hoped to find Beth, she was all for running her eye over the list which was now disappointingly small. I had no great hopes that she could offer something over and above the local men, but it wouldn’t hurt to show her, and she at once pointed to a name that had meaning to her.

  She looked up at me and said, ‘If you are looking for a woman in all this, you should be asking other women for they know things that are closed to menfolk.’

  The name of the family she pointed to was White and they lived up on the edge of dense woodland not too far from a great mansion called Sheffield Park.

  ‘How do you know them?’ I asked.

  ‘The wife, as she is now, was a Lewes girl – pretty young thing she was,’ she paused, before continuing, ‘one of my boys was sweet on her. Unfortunately for her, she got into trouble and the father of the child, a travelling labourer who had taken advantage of her innocence, disappeared as soon as she began to show. Her parents were all for throwing her out onto the parish, but a man called Chalky White offered to take her off their hands, baby and all. Trouble was, he was not too far off the age of her own pa, so it wasn’t a marriage made in heaven, was it? She, her name be Martha, was bundled off to his place and put to work collecting wood for charcoal-burning. She lost the child well into the pregnancy and every other baby that came along. To my knowledge she miscarried at least 5 times. I knew her mother well and she used to tell me what went on.’

  ‘Is her mother still about?’ I asked, breathless with excitement that this might be the family we sought.

  ‘No, both her parents died, and I haven’t seen Martha since she left Lewes. I was sorry for the lass, she must have had a hard time of it married to an old man and picked by him as cheap labour and bed warmer.’ She grimaced at the thought of young Martha and her fate. I could see her looking back into her memories before she said, ‘The loss of all those babies must have been terrible for her, they might have given her some solace.’ She sighed again. ‘My boy was sweet on her, as I said. I might have grandchildren now if he had been at home and persuaded to give the child a name, but her parents wouldn’t wait and wouldn’t take a bastard child as their own.’

  ‘Do you think she could be helping the Coad lad?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know if
her husband be one of the smuggling connection, but he lives set apart from all others. Martha’s mother described him as a ‘bugger’ once she got to know him, but by then it was too late. I think she felt guilty to her dying day for forcing her daughter into such a miserable marriage. It is a lonely place up there and a child, like Beth, would be pure joy to poor Martha.’

  I added Martha’s name alongside Chalky White who was already on the list. ‘Did she never come back to Lewes to see her parents?’ I asked.

  ‘No, never, she wasn’t allowed to, and Martha’s mother’s only contact was via the tinkers who visited with their wares – that’s how she got her information and then she would come and tell me. The father wouldn’t have his daughter’s name mentioned in the house and I became her confidante – she had to talk to someone!’

  Telling us about Martha seemed to disturb Mrs. Makepiece and she left shortly after telling us her story. Suddenly, my theory seemed to be possible and both Cecilia and I were excited at this new bit of information, whilst feeling some sympathy for the unfortunate Martha.

  After our midday meal, we all pored over the document and settled on a plan of action. Even though the names were few, they were spread over a wide area, so we would have to visit each in secrecy and try to ascertain whether Beth was there before going in with men and weapons. The smugglers or their accomplices were all heavily armed and would not be subdued easily and we could not afford for anyone to hurt or get rid of Beth; she was such a little thing and easy to hide, dead or alive. It was my fear that if anyone got wind of our interest, they would simply kill her and hide the evidence.

  We decided that Billy and Mr. Harvey would go downriver to a place not far from Southease, where my aunt had lived and from where she had led the smuggling gang that I had helped to break up (with the loss of my cousins’ lives), thus causing the enmity that had brought us to this unhappy state.

  Farmer Elwood and several of the lads would go up to Martha’s home, which was a good ride away but seemed the likeliest family to fit our thoughts of where Beth might be, and we wouldn’t want her to be hidden just before we got there. Other trusted men would be sent to two other homes, all isolated and all fitting the bill in one way or another.

  We agreed that everyone should be in place by mid-afternoon the following day when the men were most likely to be away from the home and the women preparing the meal. Everyone was sworn to secrecy and, all in all, I was confident that there would be no opportunity for Chalky White or the other families to hear about our activity before we were prepared.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  On Thursday night last we have had a violent storm. Thunder, lightning, and hail. The hail stones in general measuring two inches or upwards round, by which great numbers of windows were broke

  Sussex Weekly Advertiser and Lewes Journal 1750/1806

  I went to bed early that night, willing the new day to start when I would join the group who were going to Martha’s home. Farmer Elwood had no plan for me to be with him, but I was determined and when he rode out I followed closely behind on Flossy. I was well wrapped against the wintry weather.

  He reined in when he saw me and said, ‘I suppose there is no likelihood of you obeying me if I say go home?’

  ‘No, none,’ I replied. He nodded and we all trotted on, trying to avoid places where there were people who would gossip, particularly if we didn’t find her. We eventually came to a crossroads beyond which we could see the forest. Skirting the boundary of the great mansion of Sheffield Park, we plunged into boggy land that came before the safety of brush and then tree cover. The ground was very wet with some deep, cold pools for the unwary. Beyond the swampy land there were higher irregular banks where deep bracken beds were dying back and poor Flossy was soon wet and covered in mud. Farmer Elwood’s huge stallion picked his way through the undergrowth as we all followed his lead, and when we came into the forest we found tracks through the wood. There were clear signs of industry, with wood chips and felled trees as well as ash pits. One of the men who was with us got down and walked deeper into the wood while I held his horse. I was shivering with fear along with anticipation that I might be just yards from Beth. In the distance, we could hear the occasional thud of an axe against wood, but it was far away from us and we were unlikely to be seen or heard by the axeman. It was some time before the stableman came back but when he did, he was clearly excited by something.

  Not waiting for Farmer Elwood, I blurted out the question we were all wanting to hear the answer to: ‘Have you seen her?’

  ‘No, but there be a cottage and washing hung out,’ he said. ‘I reckon there is a child living there as grown men or women don’t fit the size of clothes that is hanging.’ My heart soared in hope as we all dismounted and tied the horses to some saplings nearby.

  Farmer Elwood spoke as we gathered around him, ‘We will get as near to the cottage as is possible without breaking cover and then, on my signal, all move in together.’ He directed the men to surround the place but keep cover. ‘Esther, you stay with me,’ he ordered. Finally, before everyone disappeared, he said, ‘I don’t want anyone hurt, so no firing of pistols. We don’t want the woodmen coming down on us with their axes. We don’t know how many men use this place, nor if they are innocent of what we suspect.’

  I stood behind a tree alongside Farmer Elwood, and after about fifteen minutes he stepped out from cover and raised his arm in a signal to converge on the cottage. A woman came out to see what was going on and I decided to slip inside the house while Farmer Elwood engaged her in talk. I had expected the woman to be still fairly young and attractive, as described by Mrs. Makepiece, but time had not dealt kindly with her. She was stooped and drawn in the face, her eyes shifting constantly. As I sneaked nearer the cottage, I heard Farmer Elwood demand her attention.

  ‘Your name, Madam?’

  Her mouth hung slack at the sight of all the armed men surrounding her cottage and she didn’t reply but backed away into the safety of her doorway. I had got there before her and she was shocked to find me behind her and blocking her entry. I looked directly into her tired and frightened eyes, before saying, ‘You have a child here?’

  She was clearly terrified, but she nodded wordlessly.

  ‘Where is she?’ My heart was pounding.

  There was a slight inclination of her head to the room behind me and I ran in.

  The room appeared small and dark, but I could make out a deal table at the centre. I walked further in, adjusting my eyes to the dim light. I saw a small cot-like bed in the corner and on that bed was lying a form covered by a hessian sack. My heart was in my mouth as I lifted the corner of the sack. A child stirred and peeped from great dark eyes up at me. It was not Beth.

  My hopes shattered, I couldn’t wait to get away, to ride hard to one or other of the remaining dwellings on the list but Farmer Elwood was not satisfied with this setback and questioned the woman as to who the child belonged to. Once she had got over her shock, she became quite talkative and declared her to be the daughter of one of the nearby foresters whom she minded while the father worked. The child had no mother and this woman, Martha, was more than pleased to have the child spend the days with her.

  I had looked around the room while she talked and saw no trace of any other child. Farmer Elwood insisted on searching the small cottage, which did not take long, while some of his men also checked the outhouses. Finally, we left and Flossy and I were in the lead as we trotted as fast as the terrain allowed back to the soft hills of Lewes. There was a thread of wind in my face as I rode and it drew tears to my eyes as I confronted the failure of our encounter. Behind me I could hear the men talk and they seemed as dissatisfied as myself with what we had found, or not found.

  Later, when we were all gathered together at South Farm, we heard from each group. All reported a complete lack of success in finding Beth. I was devastated.

  I was unable to slee
p that night but despite all my sorrows I found myself wondering what had become of Mrs. Campbell and Charlotte. I had a nagging guilt at the back of my mind that I had abandoned them. I would ride into Lewes tomorrow and enquire if she was coping with the baby as well as finding rooms.

  As I lay awake into the small hours, my thoughts continually returned to young Coad’s note. He had written that he would know if I returned to Lewes so perhaps he would bring Beth to me if he was able. It was a small hope but sufficient to allow me to get to sleep for a few hours before dawn.

  ***

  I went to Lewes the next morning and saw Charlotte. She was bonny and her mama quite happy with her accommodation. I apologised for abandoning them and Mrs. Campbell was gracious enough to acknowledge that I had more important things on my mind. Cecilia had sent her a letter of introduction to various people who might have rooms to rent and she had been enjoying herself looking around other people’s houses. I proposed introducing her to Mrs. Makepiece and Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins who knew the town and people intimately.

  My next trip was to Mrs. Makepiece. I told her all about our upsetting day yesterday.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she said, frowning in surprise.

  ‘Well, of course I’m sure. We searched the cottage and an outhouse where wood was stacked. I looked around inside and there was no indication of another child.’

  ‘If I had kidnapped a child,’ she said, ‘I would be prepared for callers looking for her.’

  ‘Well, short of pulling the place to pieces, I don’t know what else we could have done.’

  ‘Personally, I would put someone on watch,’ she said.

  ‘For how long, though? They couldn’t have known we were coming, we were extremely careful.’

  ‘You of all people should know that smugglers have their fingers in every pie and they are no respecter of status. They must have known you were coming and planted a child to throw you off the scent.’