Thunder On the Sea
Richard Testrake
Copyright © 2015
Richard Testrake
All rights reserved
Dedicated to my wife Peggy, my daughter Lisa and my son Charles
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
HMS Active, Captain Phillips, after making its way up the Thames, was now moored in the Pool of London. There, she was to land the fortune in minted Brazilian gold she had brought home in her strong-room. These funds would go a long way to revive the struggling British economy in this war year of 1814.
Stepping ashore from his boat, Phillips was aghast at the sight of Dorothy Hamilton, standing beside a barrow on the stone landing. She had caused some disasters in the short time they had been acquainted, and for most of that time he had wanted nothing to do with the young woman, especially after she had caused the maiming of a young man in a senseless duel. Before sailing on his last commission however, she had come to him, apologizing for her actions, and somehow they became close, and even intimate.
He had given her little thought in their separation, sometimes hoping she would not be waiting for him when he returned. Now though, it was time to pay the piper. Dorothy was standing here, front and center, clad in the same revealing gown she had worn when he last sailed. There were a few changes in the woman, however. Her body, with the exception of her belly, was painfully thin, her hair lank and stringy, her face lined, and could it be said, dirty?
Her belly was swollen, and it was obvious she was in the final stage of pregnancy. She appeared terrified and tears were streaming down her face. As he stepped up onto the quay, her legs collapsed under her and she sat down suddenly into the filthy barrow behind her.
Phillips had resolved, should she meet him at the quay, to tell her their relationship was at an end. This he could not do now when she was in such a state. Unconsciously, he stepped over, bent down and took her swollen body into his arms. Sobbing hysterically, she could not utter a single sound he could understand.
He turned to the barrow man standing behind his handcart.
“How did this woman get here and where is she staying?”
“Well, Yer Honor, it was like this. I hear she was thrown out of the ‘Cod’s Head’ for not paying her bill. She had tuppence that she paid me to carry her here. I doubt she has a place to stay.”
Phillips pulled out his purse and took the first coin that came to hand, a half crown.
“Help me with this woman sir! Please see if you can find some kind of vehicle to take her to a respectable inn. Can you help me out?”
Leaving his barrow, the man ran off and came back minutes later with a rickety wagon driven by a boy. The horse pulling the old wain was twice as old as the driver. He directed the lad, “I want to put this woman in your wagon and have you take us to the nearest inn that is halfway decent. Can you do this?”
“Cost you sixpence, Admiral!”
Phillips knew half that figure would be more likely, but handed the lad a shilling. The boy shouted and got down to help Phillips load Dorothy in the back. At the last minute, he removed his good coat he had meant to wear to the Admiralty, and placed it on the bed of the wagon for her to lay on. He still had a little time in hand to send for another coat to wear to the admiralty.
Turning to the midshipman commanding the boat which had carried him to shore, he ordered the lad to fetch his second-best coat, and while he was at it, to bring the ship’s surgeon ashore to look at this yoing woman.
The horse was not capable of any great speed, so Phillips walked beside the wagon talking to Dorothy. She seemed incapable of speech, mostly crying pitifully, much like an injured kitten. He kept assuring her she would be fine and that he would take care of her.
They arrived at an inn that had seen its better days, but was relatively clean. The landlady heard the wagon clatter up to her door, and came out armed with a broom. Eying the old wagon, its contents, the ancient horse, and the coatless young man, she burst out, “Oh no you don’t. I’ll not have such in my place. I run a decent house!”
Phillips again pulled out his purse and extracted a guinea. Showing the golden coin to the woman, he assured her he was not without funds, and she would be well paid if she could assist him with the young lady.
Mollified, she took the guinea and secreted it on her person. She had seen very few guineas in her life, and decided to take a chance on this one being genuine.
She called her husband, who brought a board from the stable. With Dorothy unable to walk, they managed to get her on the board and carry her into the house. The landlady made them wait a few minutes while she hurriedly made up a bed and laid Dorothy in it. Having assured herself the guinea was indeed from the Royal Mint, she ordered the men to retire. What she was about was woman’s work.
The husband took Phillips out into the parlor and fetched him a drink of gin. Automatically, Phillips took out his purse and handed the husband a few coppers. After a lengthy absence, the indignant landlady came into the parlor and announced that the poor woman was having a baby.
“Your doing, I suspect!” she directed at Phillips. He attempted, uselessly, to explain he had just came back from a long voyage and had no idea of what was going on.
Turning on her husband, she peremptorily ordered him to go fetch Mrs. Goodwin, and to be quick about it.
The first scream emerged from the bedroom where Dorothy lay and Phillips got up to investigate. The landlady barred the door with her body and ordered him to sit down and have another drink. She disappeared into the bedroom as the screams kept coming. The husband was very late in returning with Mrs. Goodwin, and Phillips was at his wits end. Every time he went to the door he was visited with verbal abuse from the landlady and he was afraid of making the problem worse.
Mrs. Goodwin, when she arrived, was a thin woman of indeterminate years, who barged into the bedroom with no outburst forthcoming. The screams stopped soon after, but the cries of an infant took their place, and the landlady came to the door, her dress spotted with blood.
“Are you the father?” she asked bluntly. “Father?” He wondered, “How could he be a father?”
Impatiently, she asked, “Who is the father of the baby boy this woman just delivered?
Stammering, he said, “Maybe I am. I just got home. I didn’t know about this. I haven’t heard from her in the better part of a year!”
“If you are the father, you have some work to do! The woman had a difficult delivery and the midwife says she may not make it. For one thing, you need to find a wet nurse very soon, and get hold of baby things.”
“Can I see her?” asked Phillips.”
“She’s out right now, and she has lost a lot of blood. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll go
and ask Mrs. Goodwin if she knows of someone who could nurse the baby. You will need money, for Mrs. Goodwin and the wet nurse too.”
Blindly, Phillips extracted two more guineas from his purse and handed them to the woman. “Lord mister. You shouldn’t show that gold around like that here. I’ll go pay the midwife and ask her about a wet nurse. By the way, are you married to the woman?”
“No I am not”, he answered.”
“Ah, just a casual roll in the hay before your ship sailed. I guess you know your son is now a bastard. Do you wish him to go through life as such, or would you care to marry the woman?”
Marriage was the last thing on Phillip’s mind. It was not an institution that evoked pleasant memories for him. His parents had had a most tempestuous marriage, as stormy as the North Sea in January. What did he want to do with marriage?
There was the baby though. Unless his parents were married, the boy would be a bastard, shunned by many, barred from many occupations. He was silent for only a moment, just long enough for the thoughts to go through his head.
“I will marry Dorothy”, he said. “When can we do it?”
“It had better be soon!” the landlady affirmed. She went into the bedroom with the midwife’s payment. Mrs. Goodwin came flying out, clutching the guinea and hugged the officer. “I never expected to get paid, she cried. Most people do not, or if they do, it is only a few pence.”
“Mrs. Goodwin, I need to find a wet nurse for the baby, and I wish to marry Dorothy. Have you any ideas?”
“Shaw sir! I delivered Mary Ferguson not a week ago, and she is healthy as a horse. Her man up and left her as soon as she started showing and she needs the money. Shall I tell her to come by?”
“That would be fine, Ma’am. Now, I just need to find someone who will marry us on short notice.”
“Well sir, some of the high and mighty churchmen look down their noses at the likes of us and make things as hard as they can. The Reverend Lawson over at St. Anthony’s is not such. If you are in trouble, he will help you if you have not a farthing to your name. Mind you, he does take a nip every now and then, but I do not hold that against him. If you were to give Andrew tuppence, no doubt he would go fetch Reverend Lawson.”
It turned out Andrew was the landlady’s husband, and he did go fetch the minister, although Phillips handed him another half crown. Very soon the house was beginning to fill. First, a young woman, dressed in the ragged remains of a once elegant gown and carrying an infant, came to the door. She looked around uncertainly and came to Phillips and said she was Mary Ferguson and heard he needed a wet nurse. He assured her he did and asked if she would be willing to re-locate.
Mary did not quite know what he meant by that and hesitantly told him she did not have a place to stay or to keep his child. Giving the woman money, he asked her to see the landlady about a room until they could make other arrangements.
Then the minister arrived. He was first led by the landlady into the birthing room to talk to Dorothy. Mrs. Jenkins, the landlady, quickly emerged and informed Phillips the young lady was concerned because he had not asked her to marry.
The minister emerged as Phillips went in, giving him a friendly nod. He immediately saw the women had cleaned her up. She was looking almost presentable now, although painfully pale and wan. She could speak only in a whisper and thanked him for taking on the responsibility of a father. She spoke for a lengthy period, telling of how her father had evicted her from their home when he found she was pregnant, handing her a purse and being told to lose herself.
The sum was substantial, and she knew it was sufficient to last her until Phillips returned, but one night thieves had broken and in and taken all but a small amount she had hidden away. She tried to find work but no one would hire a grossly pregnant woman. Fearing she was tiring herself, Phillips reminded her that Reverend Lawson was waiting outside to marry them.
“But you haven’t asked me yet, Timothy!”
So, he did the necessary and got down on his knee beside the bed and asked the critical question. With a faint smile, she said “Yes”, so he went to the door to call the minister.
The ceremony was performed with Dorothy lying in bed. Phillips grew concerned over her condition and sent a messenger out to look for the surgeon. Dorothy was hot to the touch and in acute discomfort. Mister Wentworth, when he eventually arrived, delivering his captain’s coat, admitted he had little experience with women’s maladies, but was sure this was a case of childbed fever. He offered to locate a physician in the area to get his advice.
Only the mention of Captain Phillips being a wealthy officer in the Royal Navy persuaded a physician to get in his carriage and make his way down to the inn. Doctor Hensley was dubious about Dorothy’s chances for survival and severely criticized her previous lack of treatment. Much time had elapsed, and Dorothy was now unconscious, barely breathing.
The surgeon remained beside his captain and thought to tell him of events happening back at the ship. It seemed Admiralty officials had come on board and were becoming concerned about his absence. HMS Active had returned to the Pool of London with a massive amount of specie carried from Brazil, and Phillip’s presence at the Admiralty, in order to hand over the money properly, had been expected long since.
When Mister Wentworth offered to remain by Dorothy’s side while Phillips paid a quick visit to the Admiralty, the new father agreed. Going into the kitchen, he saw the young woman he had hired to nurse the child was at the table, nursing both her own child and Phillip’s son.
This was the first time he had taken a good look at the boy, and he seemed to be the finest example of babyhood one could imagine. The baby was almost done with his meal, so he was handed to Phillips for his inspection. He was almost terrified of holding such a fragile bundle, but the feeling soon subsided and he spent a few minutes talking quietly to the infant.
Turning to the women, he asked what he owed them for their services thus far.
Mrs. Jenkins assured him she had been well paid, and there was no need for more money. Nevertheless, Phillips found a ten pound note and handed it to her. Turning to the young lady, her tongue was tied. She had not the slightest idea of what to ask for her services. Hurriedly Phillips explained he must make a trip to Admiralty at once, but should she accept the position, he would give her one hundred pounds right away and transport her and the child to his home in Essex, where she would be added to the permanent staff.
He explained to her that if she was not happy with her situation once she had spent a few weeks at his Essex estate, he would give her another twenty pounds and pay for her coach fare back to London.
Mary nodded her acceptance of the terms and took the infants back to the kitchen.
CHAPTER TWO
Andrew had the wreck of an old chaise out in the stable. He harnessed an elderly mare to it and delivered him to the Admiralty. There, he gave his name to the porter and was immediately ushered in to one of the minor staff members. This man was most distressed concerning the delay in Phillips’ reporting. After listening to the sharp side of the man’s tongue, Phillips was left alone for a half hour and then was led to an ornate office where he was met by Lord Melville.
The First Lord had a severe look on his face that mellowed, once he learned the funds aboard HMS Active were safe and ready to be unloaded. Melville wondered what had possessed him to be so late in reporting.
Listening to Phillip’s explanation of the circumstances, his marriage, the birth of a child and the desperate illness of his wife, Melville immediately offered the services of his own doctor, a man with an excellent reputation on Harley Street.
Phillips accepted the offer, explaining both his ship’s surgeon and a local physician were dubious of the outcome, although he himself was confident.
Melville came over and put his arm round his shoulder. “Put the matter of the treasure at rest. Go back and take care of your family. Someone will be sent to the ship to handle the transport of the specie.”
He continued, “You have been away from Europe for a while Captain, and may not be aware of recent developments. There is real reason to believe the war may be coming to its end. Wellington’s troops are in France and Bonaparte is hard pressed. You have been an important asset of the Royal Navy, Captain. If matters continue to proceed as they have, your services may not be so desperately needed in the near future.”
Phillips told the official he planned to take the child to his home where there were people that could help him care for the infant. Melville advised him to be gone as long as he liked. It might be politic to send a note occasionally informing the Navy of his intentions.
On the way back to the inn, Phillips stopped at a livery and arranged the hire of a large, well-sprung coach that would serve to transport his new wife, baby and wet nurse to Essex. He had his own carriage at the town house, but he would never get everything and everyone in it.
The landlady at the inn chided him at the needless expense of hiring the coach that pulled up in her yard with a clatter. She said it would surely be weeks before Mrs. Phillips would be able to travel. Once inside, he made a quick inspection of his son and then went to Dorothy’s room. He was dismayed by her condition. She was burning up with fever and was not responsive. As he stood beside her, he heard another carriage clatter up outside and soon a strange gentleman entered accompanied by the flustered landlady.
Sir John Anderson, MD was Viscount Melville’s personal physician and assured Phillips he did not ordinarily take on new patients, but had done so this time on the personal plea of the First Lord.
He ordered everyone out of the room except Mrs. Jenkins. When he emerged, he was extremely dubious of the outcome, regretting the patient had not received proper care during her confinement. He said it was all in the hands of her Maker now, but he had given Mrs. Jenkins a draught to administer to give her a little ease.
Dorothy was gone the next morning, without saying another word. The Reverend Lawson was called and he gave her the last rites and agreed to have her put to rest in the tiny cemetery at St. Anthony’s.
Thunder On the Sea: A Tim Phillips novel (War at Sea Book 11) Page 1
