The following day dawned clear and bright with a light breeze from the west-northwest. A small crowd of workers from the shipyard, led by Mr. Stewart and his family, gathered on the bank to wish them well. Giles gave the order to raise the anchor and to unfurl the main topsail and jib. Patroclus gathered way to the cheers of the onlookers which continued until she rounded the first bend. Despite having a pilot on board, Giles had ordered a man into the chains with a lead line, knowing the unusual draft of Petroclus might invite grounding if the pilot was unable to fully adjust to her unusual nature. They glided down river, with just enough wind to maintain steerage, hastened by the ebbing tide and the river’s current, the crew getting early experience as the trim of the sails had to be altered frequently because of the bends in the river. The countryside consisted of lush meadows and clumps of forest, an idyllic and beautiful setting that seemed at odds with the fact that they were sailing to war.
Chapter V
Bush found that it was most enjoyable to let the Moorhouses dictate the pace of his recovery. His period of inactivity was alleviated by conversation with Mr. Moorhouse, but not so much as to become tiresome, and a library full of volumes in which he could lose himself as he wiled away the time. The enforced inactivity, for Daphne had made sure that all in the household would strive to meet Bush’s needs without any use of his leg, meant that the swelling in his stump diminished rapidly so that by Friday morning Mr. Jackson, accompanied again by Jake, declared that a new leg could now be fitted. Bush suggested that the new leg include Carstairs’ improvement to make it fit a stirrup.
“That is a grand idea,” said Jake. “I was thinking of making the base a bit broader than on the leg you have, sir, and maybe have the blacksmith fashion an iron tip, so it will not wear down soon. I think the blacksmith can incorporate a grove that will fit a stirrup easily. We can certainly try to make it so.”
As the two men were leaving, Daphne intercepted them. “When will the new leg be finished?”
Jackson looked at Jake.
“We should be able to bring it here on Monday morning,” Jake said confidently.
“You are not going to work on it on Sunday surely?” Daphne sounded horrified.
“No. But we won’t get it finished before late on Saturday afternoon.”
“Then hurry and bring it over on Saturday when you get it finished,” suggested Daphne. “Captain Bush would like to get used to it before he meets his agent on Monday.”
“If you are sure it will not interfere with your dinner or evening…”
“Of course, it won’t. It is much more important to get Captain Bush’s leg to him as soon as possible.”
Mr. Jackson and Jake, in fact, returned in the middle of Saturday afternoon, while Daphne was away on some business connected with the manor. The leg was quickly fitted, and needed only slight adjustments with Jake’s chisel before Mr. Jackson was satisfied. It had a leather socket lined with wool and Bush immediately found that the new leg was much more comfortable than his previous one had been. Jake had also fashioned a beautiful cane from ash that was a bit longer than Bush’s previous one.
“You need to get accustomed to this leg gradually so that the stump can get toughened up steadily. But if you do increase use of the leg steadily, you should find that the leg causes no more problems and soon you can use it as much as you want.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Jackson.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Miss Moorhouse for taking you under her wing. She is a remarkable young lady.”
“You know her well?”
“I suppose I do. I’ve known her since she was just a small child, and have watched her grow. I know no one more adventurous and courageous and kind-hearted than she is. Let me tell you one story which illustrates why I have such a high regard for her.”
Jackson took a seat, pulled out his pipe, lit it and proceeded:
“I was called one day to the house of one of the farm laborers who work for the Moorhouses. He was in a very bad way. There is a small appendage on the intestine that can sometimes become afflicted and fill with poison. When this happens, it is very painful and if the sack containing the poison bursts – and it usually does in severe cases – it is always fatal. Sometimes the condition goes away by itself, but rarely when the pain is acute. The only solution is to operate on the patient in order to remove the sack before it bursts, but the operation in itself is very dangerous and the patient usually dies of infection of the wound. I determined that the poor man had developed this condition and the chances of his surviving without the operation were extremely low.
“I really had no choice but to operate. However, I would need assistance. When I mentioned the need for help in the operation to the poor man’s wife she collapsed completely and the only other person there, a man, turned white and almost fainted at the thought of the operation. Luckily for the patient, Miss Moorhouse had come by to express her sympathies, and she insisted that she would help. And help she did! When I mentioned that using clean cloths and instruments seems to reduce the chance of mortification, she insisted that everything be cleaned in boiling water, including the cat gut I would use to tie off the vessels. Then she helped to administer laudanum to keep the patient quieter and helped to hold him down when I began to operate. Whenever I needed something, Miss Moorhouse was quick to pass it to me. As a result of her efforts, the operation went more quickly and smoothly than I could possibly have expected. When I finished, she hastily excused herself, rushed outside to get some fresh air and I could see through the window that she was trembling. It takes real courage for a young lady to steel herself to get through something like that!”
“Was the operation a success?”
“Very much so. We got to the appendix before it ruptured. And there was almost no mortification. Very little was discharged from the drain I left in. I don’t know, but I suspect that Miss Moorhouse’s insistence that everything be as clean as possible had something to do with the result.
“Now I should be getting on. Use your new leg but stop just as soon as it becomes painful and continue to use the salve.”
With that, Jackson and Jake took their leave. Bush was not alone for long. Daphne came rushing into the room a few minutes later saying, “I just saw Mr. Jackson leave. Is that the new leg? How is it?”
“It seems to be a great deal better than the previous one.”
“Mr. Jackson told me you should practice with it moderately, but regularly. Would you like to take a short walk in the garden before dinner? It will allow you to try that new cane as well.”
Bush was delighted. The inactivity of the past few days was weighing on him and he welcomed the chance for some activity.
They set off immediately. The cane was indeed much more of a help than Bush’s previous stick.
“Your Mr. Jackson seems to be a remarkable man. He was telling me how you helped him with an operation.”
“He makes far too much of it.”
“I was surprised to hear that an apothecary was performing surgeries.”
“Mr. Jackson is not your usual apothecary. He was trained as a doctor, but found that he did not believe that much of what doctors do in trying to help their patients actually benefits them at all. Indeed, he strongly believes that bleeding, for example, is almost always the worst thing that can be done to a patient. He found that this and similar views put him into very unpleasant confrontations with those who had summoned him as a doctor and finds it easier to call himself an apothecary. Those who know and respect him call on him for all medical assistance, while those who don’t, or want the usual treatments, call in Dr. Verdour, but they seem less apt to recover.”
“But that doesn’t account for the surgeries surely.”
“Well, Mr. Jackson is convinced that there are many cases where surgery is necessary and that few barbers are really equipped to do it well. So he studied with some barber-surgeons and can perform operations usually more effectively and more often successfully tha
n regular surgeons.”
“A remarkable man.”
“Yes he is. And now I think that you have done quite enough walking for today. Let’s go back in and you can argue with my father about Rome or Carthage or something until dinner.”
With Daphne’s firm and irresistible guidance, Bush made rapid progress in adapting to his new leg. By Monday, he and Daphne felt that he could safely venture to the Inn to see Mr. Edwards and consult about the Dower Cottage. They, of course, took the Moorhouses’ carriage and Daphne was very solicitous about getting Bush from the carriage to the parlor of the inn.
There they found a group of men, headed by Mr. Edwards and Lord David Giles. Edwards greeted Bush warmly, who in turn introduced Daphne to both Mr. Edwards and Lord David. Edwards then introduced his various assistants. Lord David and Mr. Clark, who had formally been a bailiff for the Bishop, and had smoothed the transition for Lord David to take up the living of Dipton, departed to see the church warden and inspect the church properties, including the vicarage.
“You must be the young lady that Captain Giles told me about,” Mr. Edwards commented to Daphne. “He was most impressed with your knowledge. The drainage project will go ahead as you recommend. But I suspect that, if you are willing, you can give Mr. Chester, my agricultural expert, invaluable advice on how the Dipton Hall estates should be managed. From what Captain Giles said, he is afraid that the estate manager may not have been doing his job at all properly.”
“That may be true. I understood that Mr. Gramley would not let Mr. Jenkins – that is the estate manager’s name – make any investments, but he did seem to be getting yields poorer than they should have been. I don’t really know what has been going on, but I’ll be happy to help.”
“Maybe Mr. Chester and you might start by looking at the drainage project and then you and he can jointly take it up with this Mr. Jenkins. That, I know, is the first priority with Captain Giles. And I should be quite clear: Captain Giles instructed that, in the case of disagreement, your views should prevail. I hope that is convenient with you.”
Daphne was delighted to realize that Giles had developed such a respect for her knowledge of the needs of the land in just a couple of conversations. She had had a struggle to get the farmers of her father’s estate to take her seriously and to respect her knowledge. It was gratifying that Mr. Edwards and Mr. Chester seemed to be in accord with Giles’ instructions, and were not treating her as some foolish female whose opinions were to be humored and circumvented as quickly as possible.
“I would suggest that you and Mr. Chester begin your examination this morning,” continued Edwards. “Then perhaps it would be best if Mr. Chester met with Mr. Jenkins this afternoon to go over the estate records and to get a general feeling for the problems which need to be faced. Afterwards you and Mr. Chester can meet with Mr. Jenkins on the drainage project.”
Daphne was about to protest fearing that the schedule was a ploy to allow Mr. Chester and Mr. Jenkins to gang up on her, but she stopped when she realized that Mr. Edwards might be implying that Mr. Chester should see if Mr. Jenkins could be relied on, or if, like other senior staff at Dipton Hall, his performance had been deficient. The possibility did not surprise her. Based on this reflection, she quickly agreed to the suggested proceedings.
“Mr. Davidson, my arranger, and I will have a lot to do at the Hall, but first we should look into Captain Bush’s needs. I understand that Captain Giles has offered you the Dower Cottage, Captain Bush.”
“Yes. And I have decided to accept his offer.”
“Splendid. Then I suggest that you and I and Mr. Davidson go over to the Cottage and see what you will require.”
Bush was about to concur entirely when Daphne interrupted. “Captain Bush can only walk on his new leg to a very limited extent, Mr. Edwards. The doctor has expressly forbidden him to make great use of it for a while.”
“That’s all right, Miss Moorhouse. We can use my carriage to get over there, and we can suspend the examination at any time when it is necessary to allow recovery.
“Now that we all know what we will be doing, let’s not waste any more time. Lord David, I suggest that you and Mr. Clark proceed to the church. Miss Moorhead and Mr. Chester can take Miss Moorhouse’s carriage to visit the site of the drainage. Mr. Davidson, please ask the innkeeper to have my carriage readied, and then you might go and open up the cottage. Captain Bush and I will wait for the carriage to be ready.”
Mr. Edwards quite forcibly bustled everyone else out of the inn parlor and then turned to Bush.
“I am afraid that rush was really a ploy to get you to myself for a few minutes. I wanted to tell you about the prize monies that are coming to you. Unfortunately several of the vessels and cargoes involved are still being valued – and disputed over. However, already you have a tidy sum – a very tidy sum – in your account. I have here the reckoning for the progress so far.
“But the main thing is that it has been decided that you were in command of Squirrel when Phoebe defeated Resistance and that the merchant ships which Phoebe recovered can be treated as prizes. How it was managed, I don’t know. Captain Giles, I suspect, had a hand in it.
“No, no…” Mr. Edwards stopped Bush’s protest, “I know that you were not transferred to Squirrel until most of the engagement with Resistance was over and you weren’t really in command of her. But the lieutenant who was her commander was killed early on and, incidentally, left no heirs. If anyone was hurt by your getting the money, it is probably Captain Giles, and he would certainly not claim it. Indeed, I think he must have had a large hand in making sure that the money comes to you.
“The principal point is that you are in better financial shape than I thought when last we talked. If all goes well – and in these matters, where there are substantial funds involved, there can always be difficulties – you should be very comfortably set up for life.”
Bush was most encouraged by Mr. Edwards’ words. Mr. Edwards looked out the window.
“The carriage is ready. We had better go to examine the Dower Cottage.”
Bush struggled to his feet. “What about the rent?”
“Captain Giles said to set the rent at what I think it is worth, but not to make it too expensive. I will know better when I have seen the place. But you will certainly be able to afford it, and the rent will be much less than you would pay for adequate accommodation elsewhere.”
With this assurance, Bush was eager to set off. A very short carriage ride took them to the Dower Cottage. Mr. Davidson had already done a quick survey of the property.
“It’s in better shape than I expected, Captain Bush. What is needed is mainly decorating rather than serious reconstruction work. And of course furniture. I think that we can go over how the rooms might be used and then I can give you more specific proposals in a day or two. The main question is whether you want a room which will be your room, like a library or something similar. And whether your sisters need space for a piano forte. If they are musical, you may want your room to be as far from the drawing room as possible. I dearly love music, but to hear someone practicing, especially learning a new piece, can be very annoying even if the musician is accomplished.”
This was something Bush had never thought about, but he did know that he most certainly found listening to his sisters, who were not very accomplished, struggle with a new piece could grate abominably on his nerves.
Davidson proceeded to ask Bush several other questions about the habits of his family, for many of which Bush had no answers. He felt increasingly that he was out of his depth. But the most alarming revelation of the whole process came when he inquired when the work could be finished.
Davidson considered briefly, “With the best of luck, we’ll be through in eight weeks, but we also have to work on the Hall, especially as I understand there is some urgency about getting it ready for Lady Marianne. Realistically, we should allow three months”
Bush’s mother really wanted to move by the quarter day
, and would have to find other accommodation, at least on a temporary basis, before the Dower Cottage would be ready. He would still have to find her lodgings. That remained the only fly in his ointment.
Bush and Mr. Moorhouse were in animated discussion of what might have happened at the battle of Actium if the Persians had followed a different strategy when Daphne returned home towards the end of the afternoon. She was bubbling with excitement and didn’t even seem to notice that the hems of her skirts and petticoats were filthy and really should be changed before she came into the drawing room. Instead, she strode in recounting excitedly how the plans for the drainage were progressing and how Mr. Chester had welcomed and agreed with her designs, only suggesting a few minor and, she admitted, worthwhile amendments.
“We talked and talked about the estates,” she continued. “Mr. Chester knows so much, and isn’t at all threatened by a female who has opinions of her own. And when we went to see Mr. Jenkins, Mr. Chester realized almost at once that the man had been abusing his position and was very old-fashioned to boot. He fired him on the spot. He had a letter that Mr. Edwards had written, for use if the need arose, to confirm his authority.
“But you’ll never guess the best part. No, never.”
“Since we cannot guess, my dear, you shall just have to tell us so we don’t die of curiosity,” Mr. Moorhouse responded kindly. He apparently was quite used to his daughter’s bouts of enthusiasm.
“Mr. Chester suggested that I could act as the estate manager for the holdings of Dipton Hall – at least, until Captain Giles can make permanent arrangements. He said that he would recommend that I do so to Mr. Edwards, if it was agreeable to me. And he added that he couldn’t imagine Mr. Edwards’s not endorsing his recommendation. Oh, I’m so excited!”
“Yes, I can see that, my dear; but you are quite ignoring Captain Bush, who has also had a very busy and challenging day.”
A New War Page 7