by Jerri Hines
“I have found that the truth is always a good approach,” Cathryn said. “But I’m confused to why you have need of my maid.”
Captain Sanborn stared at her intently for a moment. “Of course, you are correct. I want you to understand that my options are limited,” He went on, looking toward Tacy. “Have you, ma’am, helped in a delivery of a child before?”
Tacy’s eyes widened. Cathryn could have laughed out loud. Tacy fainted at the sight of blood. She sobered quickly from the serious expression on the captain’s face.
“Tacy is a wonderful maid, but…a nurse, let us just say, sickness bothers her.”
“It is an urgent matter. I wouldn’t ask otherwise. Could you at least attempt to help?” Captain Sanborn asked Tacy directly. “One of my passengers, a young girl that came aboard with her aunt is in labor. It is not her time. Too early I’m told, but she obstinately refuses help from my medical officer. She seems to have a fear of men. Can you not see what you can do?”
Tacy’s face turned pale once more, but her eyes fell upon Cathryn. “I’m no good at those things, but now the Misses here…she has a way about her.”
“Miss Blankenship?” Captain Sanborn questioned Tacy, as if it was an impossibility. “I can see if there is another woman in the passenger’s quarters that could help.”
Cathryn’s mind raced. She had been with Juriah when she was needed with a birth of one of her father’s slaves, but she had never done so herself.
Of course, there had been the horses. She wasn’t supposed to be there, but she had discovered she loved the moment when a new life emerged. But to help deliver a baby alone?
“We’ll go together to see what help we can offer. I’m not certain what we can do, Captain, but we will do what we can,” Cathryn finally said with the greatest reluctance.
Following the captain out of the cabin, she eyed her maid harshly. Leaning into Tacy, she whispered, “She has a way about her?”
“Well, what did you want me to say, Miss? It’s what Miss Juriah has always said about you.”
“Not about delivering babies, Tacy!”
“Well, ma’am, it was either you or me, and it certainly ain’t gonna be me,” Tacy shot back.
The captain glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes conveyed his uncertainty about his decision to let the two women help.
Tacy smiled broadly. “We’ll be just fine, Captain, sir.”
A piercing screech halted Cathryn at the entrance of the cabin. Her legs felt like they were about to buckle. She prayed she wouldn’t crumbled on the floor.
From behind her, Tacy grabbed hold of Cathryn’s hand tightly. Cathryn jerked it back. She squared her shoulders. Composing herself, she entered.
Nothing prepared her, though for the sight— large brown…frightened eyes stared at her. The young, tiny girl was sweating profusely, twisting back and forth relentlessly from one side to another. She moaned.
Cathryn shoved Tacy forward, for her maid had frozen in her spot. Toward the corner, an older plump woman sat clenching her copious bosom to still her fluttering heart. Cathryn recognized her. Fanny Peterson.
Charles Town wasn’t a large community. Most knew each other within their social circle. Cathryn wondered, though, who lay in the bed.
“Mrs. Peterson?” Cathryn asked, surprised, but didn’t have time to continue with her train of thought.
The girl screamed and clutched her stomach. The young one seemed oblivious to everything except the medical officer who stood helplessly by the edge of the bed.
Another scream pierced the thick air, playing upon Cathryn’s already frayed nerves. Turning to the officer, Cathryn demanded, “Pray, sir, unless you feel you are helping at this moment, leave!”
Unsure whether to do as she commanded, the medical officer hesitated. The captain nodded and the officer withdrew.
Cathryn turned to Captain Sanborn and said, “I’m afraid you will have to leave also, at least until I can calm the situation.”
Tacy smiled at the captain with a nod that seemed to say told you so. Cathryn paid her maid no mind. Instead, she began giving instructions.
“See to it that we have all we need. Hot water and towels and whatever else that medical officer thinks will be useful.”
Tacy did as she was told and left quietly. Cathryn knelt beside the bed. She asked Mrs. Peterson, softly, “What is her name?”
“Mary, Mary Montross. Oh, Miss Blankenship. I didn’t know he would impose upon you. She’s so afraid of that officer. I couldn’t calm her. Oh, this is bad. So bad. The poor little thing,” Mrs. Peterson rambled. She rose and moved over beside Cathryn, crowding her. “Mary, it will be okay. My dear, tell her.”
Losing patience, Cathryn snapped, “Mrs. Peterson, why don’t you step outside with the others?”
She waited until Mrs. Peterson shut the door behind her. Then, she took the small thing’s hand and rubbed it gently.
“Mary, they are all gone,” Cathryn said in a soothing voice. “I’m going to help you through this. You need to believe that. Do you understand?”
The dark-eyed girl nodded. She didn’t seem to be able to speak as tears ran freely down her cheeks. Cathryn wiped them back.
The girl could be no more than thirteen, fourteen at the most. She was small in stature with a sweet timid face. The tiny thing looked as though she would get lost upon the bed. She lay with her dark hair dripping wet and sweat pouring down her face.
“Help me,” Mary whispered. “I’m going to die.”
“No, no. I won’t let you,” Cathryn said stubbornly. Her mind raced to when she had helped Juriah. Bits and pieces came back to her. Give comfort, maintain calm, and time…Babies always seemed to take such a long time.
The young girl clutched Cathryn’s hand and Cathryn let her. Tacy rushed back into the room and set a bowl of water on the table beside the table. Cathryn took a wet cloth and wiped the girl’s brow as she had done with Tacy. She couldn’t do more at the moment than wait.
The girl cried out. Her cries cut through Cathryn like a knife, but Cathryn encouraged her. She talked to the girl to get the young one’s mind off of her pain. Cathryn talked of Elm Bluff, her horses…her father.
Mary said nothing, but she calmed the more Cathryn spoke. All the while, Cathryn never took her attention away from on the young girl, so delicate and frail, and becoming weaker by the minute.
Time passed slowly in the dim, dark room bogged down in heat and pain. Perspiration poured off of every inch of her being, but Cathryn didn’t leave Mary’s side.
“Momma,” Mary mumbled. “Momma.”
Cathryn’s heart broke for Mary. Then, a blistering blood-curtailing scream burst forth from the girl. Cathryn panicked watching the linen’s turn red, spreading down the bed.
Leaping up, Cathryn directed Tacy, “Get the medical officer, now.”
“But Miss Cathryn, the girl?”
“Blast it all, Tacy! She’s delirious. Go get him—now!”
“Mary, I want you to listen to me,” Cathryn said gently to Mary. “I want you to look only at me. Listen to me. Do you understand? Trust me. Please.”
Glancing over at the officer when he entered, Cathryn realized he understood the girl’s condition without saying a word. Cathryn did her best to hide the officer from Mary’s view, but the girl was beyond caring.
Mary screamed, cried, moaned and then silence.
Faint sounds that reminded Cathryn of the noise of a young kitten emerged in the silence. The baby had been born.
Without warning, the officer handed Cathryn the bundle. “Keep him warm.”
Suddenly, the young girl’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fell back on the cot. Blood was everywhere. At first, Cathryn thought the girl had died, but her chest heaved.
Everything turned into a blur. Fanny Peterson bustled back into the cabin. Cathryn felt Tacy’s arms direct her out of the room, down to the common way where she sat with the infant.
The rough seas had calmed.
The storm was over, Cathryn didn’t seem to notice. She felt as if she was in a fog, watching all the activity whirling around her. She sat there, so still with the infant, so tiny and small.
Cathryn rocked him gently and sang sweetly. Her hand gently caressed the infant’s face and touched his little fingers.
At some point, Tacy returned. “Is something wrong, Miss Cathryn? You don’t look right. Why don’t you let me look at the wee one?”
Cathryn stubbornly refused to release the babe, cradling him in her arms. The tears began to flow. She found no words to say that the infant had only taken a few breaths. He had died in her arms.
* * * *
Cathryn had no idea how long she held the little one or why she didn’t want to let go of him. All she could think about was how unfair life was!
Somewhere in the distance, she heard murmurs, but she paid no one any mind. Only Tacy who told her that the girl would survive. More than once, Tacy bent down and tried to take the infant. Cathryn refused and held tight to the lifeless baby.
From the corner of her eyes, Cathryn saw see Mrs. Montgomery and Mrs. Peterson whispering together. Both must have thought her strange, but no one moved toward her.
Cathryn pulled back the blanket and studied the babe. He looked so perfect, much like a china doll. A beautiful round face, five small fingers.
“Cathryn,” a voice called to her. “Cathryn, may I sit by you?”
She nodded slightly, but her eyes stayed fixed on the infant.
“Cathryn, they need to take the babe. There is nothing more that can be done. I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”
She nodded again and caressed his tiny cheek.
“He’s not even mine. I don’t know why I’m behaving in this manner,” she uttered in a voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s understandable, but they need to take him now,” Lieutenant Pennington said in a gentle voice. He reached over and tenderly removed the infant from her arms. He handed the small bundle to Tacy who stood nearby.
Cathryn glanced up. The look the two exchanged wasn’t lost upon her.
“I need to go back to my cabin,” Cathryn said. She tried to stand, but her legs trembled with fatigue and strain. She wavered.
The next moment she felt strong arms around her. She made no protest, but turned her face into his shoulder and cried, uncontrollably. He stroked her hair and whispered softly to her. At first, she attempted to withdraw, but then took refuge in his strength.
Oh, the sight she must look. Blood had splattered all over her; her hair was disheveled. She could well imagine what Mrs. Montgomery must think of her. But before she took a step back, her head began to spin and she lost her balance.
Her eyes flickered as she fought off the feeling of complete exhaustion. Lieutenant Pennington laid her down upon her bed while Tacy fussing around her. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Mrs. Montgomery.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. She has been through so much,” Mrs. Montgomery said. “It was a shame I wasn’t able to help with being indisposed as I was. Still not feeling well, but when I heard about the harrowing delivery, I made the attempt. Mrs. Peterson said Cathryn was solid as a rock until after the babe died. Said she talked the poor child through it all.”
Cathryn opened her eyes to find the lieutenant looking down at her. He smiled and wiped her stray hair back off her face. His hand lingered upon her cheek. She didn’t know why she found it comforting.
The lieutenant straightened himself and turned to Mrs. Montgomery. “If you have need of anything, please let Miss Blankenship know, I’m at your disposal at all times.”
“Thank you so much, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Montgomery answered. “We will take care of her from here.”
Slowly, Cathryn drifted off to an exhausted sleep, a restless sleep with haunting dreams.
Flashes of people who had passed emerged. She could see so clearly her mother and young brother. She tried to call to them, but they didn’t answer. Then, through a mist her father materialized. He was walking beside them. He turned and smiled at Cathryn.
She cried, “No, don’t leave me. Father, come back!”
“Miss Cathryn! Miss Cathryn!” Tacy’s voice emerged out of the darkness. “You’re dreaming. Child, wake up.”
Cathryn bolted up and hugged Tacy so tightly that her maid couldn’t breathe properly. “Oh, Tacy! I dreamed my father was with Mother and John Steven.”
“It’s just a dream, Miss. I’m not surprised with all that happened, but your father is fine. It was only a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”
Cathryn nodded and lay back down, but she couldn’t dismiss the ominous feeling that gnawed within her.
* * * *
By the time Cathryn woke the next day, the sun shone brightly through the small cabin portal. She had long ago lost track of time. The events of the last day merged into a cluster of haze. Pain stabbed her when she remembered the babe, so little, so vulnerable. Oh, his poor mother!
Then, her mind wandered to Lieutenant Pennington. How safe she felt in his arms! She shook her head. She needed to collect herself with the reminder that she was his mission, nothing more.
Cathryn sat up. The bloodied gown she had fallen asleep in sat on the chair in the corner. Not only had she been washed, she wore a clean gown. She must have been exhausted for she had no recollection of Tacy doing so.
She swung her feet onto the floor when the door burst open. Tacy entered with a breakfast tray.
“Oh, Miss. You have woken,” Tacy said, setting the tray down on the table beside the bed. “They’re having a simple service for the babe and the girl is asking for you. That is, if you’re up to it. Such a young thing, she is.” Tacy hesitated, lowering her voice. “You won’t believe what I have found out about the poor girl, Miss. It is a shame, total shame.”
Cathryn took a bite out of a piece of toast, but gestured for Tacy to continue.
With the encouragement, Tacy sat down on the edge of Cathryn’s mattress. “It seems that the child, the young girl, Mary, for that’s what she is, a child, was under the guardianship of her stepfather. Do you know who it is?” Tacy didn’t wait for an answer. “Franklin Chelton. Can you ever imagine? Him being who he is and all.”
Cathryn nodded that she knew the man, but what in the world Tacy was talking about, she hadn’t a clue. Franklin Chelton was one of her father’s acquaintances. If she remembered correctly, he dealt with shipping.
Swallowing, Cathryn asked, “I know the man, but what has he to do with the baby?”
“He was the father of the babe, Miss,” Tacy said bluntly. “Mrs. Montgomery told me herself. Scandal it is. Mary’s mother died when the fever went through last winter. Mary was her only child from her first marriage. And him taking advantage of the young girl!
“Ruined her he did. The family sent her to England to have the baby, but it was too late. All of Charles Town knows of the disgrace now. Of course, it’s Mrs. Peterson. She couldn’t keep her mouth closed, Mrs. Montgomery said.”
Cathryn wanted to stop and asked her how he could be the father. Not that Cathryn understood everything about such things. She well had figured out two people didn’t have to be married to produce a babe, but Mr. Chelton was an old man and Mary but a child. Tacy would find her ignorant and tease her if she asked. So she said nothing.
Tacy leaned closer. “But Mrs. Montgomery said that it was Mr. Chelton’s dead wife’s brother, Henry Peterson, that found out. Had a fit. Was the one who put his foot down! Otherwise, that man would still have the poor girl within his house, hidden away probably.”
“Tacy, devil be gone! What are you talking about?” Cathryn’s patience had worn thin. “I haven’t understood half of what you were saying.”
“For someone that is so worldly at some things, you are so naïve at others. The poor girl was taken advantage of by her stepfather, Miss. He had his way with her and then she was left with a child and shame of the situation, although no fault of her own. It is the burden of the wom
an to bear.”
“That is awful!” Cathryn declared, horribly shocked. “Why would someone blame that poor girl?”
“It is life, I’m afraid.” Tacy’s voice trailed off. “Now, Mrs. Peterson says she doesn’t know what to do with the young one. They got no family in England, only friends of Mr. Peterson’s that were going to care for the babe.” Tacy stood and straightened her skirt. “Well, now, we don’t have much time to get you ready, Miss.”
* * * *
Cathryn didn’t have a black dress. She hadn’t packed any mourning clothes. The darkest dress she had was her green, which she chose.
Tacy worked endlessly with her hair, which desperately need to be washed. Sweat, grime from the day before made it hard to work with, but Tacy worked a miracle, brushing out all the tangles and powdered down her hair so it would look presentable. She pulled it back in braids, framing her face.
In the late morning air, the funeral ceremony commenced with the captain officiating. Cathryn studied the young girl, who had left her sick bed to say goodbye to her baby.
The girl’s face was thin and pale with pain written in the lines of her young face. Tears of grief trickled down her sunken cheeks.
Not far from Mary, Lieutenant Pennington stood watching near the Montgomerys. Feet stilled, hands folded.
Captain Sanborn read the words from the Bible in an attempt to give the ceremony a semblance of religion. “I am the Resurrection and the Life…and whosoever…believeth in me shall never die.”
Cathryn thought the choice of that passage strange and gave little comfort to the young mother who had just lost her child. The baby barely had taken a breath. How could he have believed in anything!
But in the next instant, Cathryn stood aghast! Her attention had lain with Mary when she heard the splash. Mortified—they had thrown the babe’s body overboard!
Her mouth opened wide. She wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Lieutenant Pennington had moved to her side.
“It is how it is done at sea, Miss Blankenship. Someone should have warned you,” he said in a soft voice. “It was good of you to come for the girl. I understand you did her a great service.”
