by Amy Cecil
However, Thomas had so many influences around him telling him what he should and should not say. How he should and should not behave. Sometimes it made my head spin. Sometimes it was just too much. And although I would not go against Bash’s wishes, I was the only person who could provide Thomas with some adventure. I could provide him with a break from his social teachings, at least for a bit. I thought again about his question. Why not? Why not sail to the West Indies? It would be an adventure of a lifetime for him. It would be an adventure of a lifetime for us both!
“You know what, Thomas? I do not know why not!” I looked up at my father and said, “I think we should go.” I added with a smirk and a twinkle to my eye, “After all, Thomas, your grandfather is an old man and needs us to take care of him. Do you not agree?”
He began jumping up and down but soon caught himself. “Yes, Mama, Grandfather definitely needs us to look after him.” He paused for a moment and then looked over at his grandfather. “Sir, do you think we might see pirates on our voyage?”
Mr. Bennet smiled at his grandson and replied, “My dearest Thomas, that is highly unlikely. Do you not remember that I told you that the British captured all the pirates 100 years ago?”
Looking disappointed, Thomas nodded. He looked up at me and asked, “May I play the pianoforte?”
“You may. But first, I need you to understand something. I know that you are disappointed about not being able to see any pirates. But your grandfather has romanticized pirates for you and I think it is imperative for you to know that pirates were not nice. They were not heroes. They were mean men and women who broke many laws. You should be glad that there are no more pirates. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mama,” Thomas replied as he turned and left the room.
I scowled at my father. “Why do you teach him such things?”
He laughed. “Oh, sweet Lizzy, how soon you forget. I remember a young girl eager to hear all my stories of pirates and adventures. In fact, I remember that same young girl telling me that she was going to marry a pirate one day.”
“That was a long time ago. And as you well know, Bash was the furthest thing from a pirate.” I started to think about what I had just agreed to and began to worry for our safety. I paused for a moment, and then asked, “Do you think crossing the sea is safe? Nassau is so far away, Papa. I’m worried.”
“My contacts tell me that there is no better time to sail. The seas are safe now that Napoleon is gone, and we are out of the bad weather season. All will be well, my dear. I assure you. It will be an adventure of a lifetime.”
I nodded at his reassurances, but I was still a bit uneasy. After all, Thomas was all I had left and I worried so much about him. It is true what they say about motherhood. It can take the bravest, most fearsome person and turn her to mush when it comes to worrying about her child. But, on the other hand, I knew this was exactly what Thomas needed in the aftermath of his father’s death. It had been a little over a year since Bash had passed and I could see that Thomas was still struggling with the loss. He and Bash had been very close and I knew Thomas missed him every day. Thomas had depended on his father’s influence perhaps a little too much. It had helped that my father had been here for him, but it just was not the same.
The next day, excited and ready to go, my father quickly made the arrangements for us to sail out of Liverpool in a fortnight.
Chapter 2
A fortnight later, my father, Thomas, my lady’s maid Dawson, and Thomas’ governess, Mrs. Kelly, boarded a sailing ship bound for Nassau. It was my understanding that we were to make several stops on the islands in the West Indies prior to our arrival in Nassau. Father had told me that the ship was part of the Black Ball Line based out of New York City. He said that it was named the Amity. He was rather excited for this trip and I think the fact that he knew that information excited him even more.
“Sir, what kind of ship is this?” Thomas asked curiously.
“It is a brig,” my father replied.
“How do you know?” asked Thomas. He was such a curious youngster and often reminded me of myself when I was his age. Perhaps that is why he and my father got on so well.
My father explained, “Because of the masts. You see, Thomas, a full-rigged brig is a vessel with two square-rigged masts—see the fore and main? The main mast of a brig is the aft one. They are made this way to improve maneuverability, with the mainmast carrying the mainsail.” My father loved ships and for as long as I could remember he had always been reading about different ships and how they differed from each other. To me, they all looked the same.
“You sure do know a lot about ships,” Thomas said admiringly.
I chuckled to myself. There he went, stroking my father’s ego once again. Sometimes I wondered if that was the reason my father spent so much time with Thomas. In either case, it was nice to see Thomas (and my father) so happy.
“My dear grandson, soon you will learn that I know a lot about many things.” My father looked up at me and winked. I chuckled again, then shrugged and rolled my eyes at him.
My father had told me that the Amity was a large sailing ship, also known as a packet ship. It served a dual purpose: it not only carried passengers across the Atlantic, but also carried cargo such as wool to the Americas and other countries. The ship also served another non-public purpose, which was the reason for its sailing to the West Indies. It carried gold—wages to be delivered to those in the employ of the Black Ball Line in the West Indies. But it was not publicized to the crew or the passengers that there was more than wool in her hull. Sometimes I wondered if my father was just making up stories or if he really knew all about these things.
As we climbed aboard the ship, a gentleman who I assumed was the captain walked up and said, “Your Grace! Welcome aboard!” He added, “It is an honor to have you and your son sailing with us.”
“Captain, I presume?” I asked.
“Yes, Your Grace, forgive me. I am Captain Ralston, and this here is our first mate, Mr. Cooke.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you.” I was a bit annoyed that he had paid no mind to my other traveling companions, so I felt the need to introduce them. I gestured toward my father and said, “Captain Ralston, Mr. Cooke, this is my father, Thomas Bennet.” I gestured toward the ladies respectively and said, “My lady’s maid, Dawson, and Thomas’ governess, Mrs. Kelly.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” the captain replied. He then added, “We have prepared our best quarters for your party, madam.”
“Thank you, Captain Ralston. We are very much looking forward to our voyage. How long do you think we will be at sea?” I asked. I tried to hide the fear and concern from my voice, but I could tell by the look on my father’s face that I was not doing a very good job.
“I estimate eight to ten weeks. My normal route is Liverpool to New York and that normally takes about six weeks. Since we are heading a great deal further south and into the West Indies, I am estimating an additional two to four weeks.”
“That is a long time at sea.” I had heard many tales of ships that had never made the crossing. Ships that became filled with sickness or ships that were caught in storms. There were all types of adversities that could arise and I knew I would be lying to myself if I said I was not scared or worried.
“Oh Lizzy, my dear daughter, you need not worry,” said my father. “Where is your sense of adventure?”
“I still have it, Papa, I do. But I worry about Thomas at sea for that long. What if he becomes ill? Who will tend him?” I asked.
“I can assure you, Your Grace, we have a doctor on board. In the event your son is stricken with illness, he will be provided the best care available,” the captain said. He paused for a moment, realizing that I was not completely reassured, and then added, “Once we complete the initial crossing, we will be making stops at various ports throughout the islands. That should help break the journey up a bit.”
I smiled and said, “Thank you, Captain Ralston. Yo
u are most reassuring.” I was not particularly worried about our wellbeing once we had made it across the Atlantic. That would be the easy part. My concern was getting to the islands in the first place. The captain either did not pick up on this concern or just chose to ignore it because he did not have a good rebuttal to my objections. Either way, I was worried and a bit scared, and nothing he said was going to reassure me.
Not having any more to say on the subject, the captain called to his first mate, “Mr. Cooke. Please take the duchess and her party to their cabins.” As the first mate walked over to us, the captain turned to us and said, “We shall be sailing in about an hour. Mr. Cooke will show you around the ship. Please do not hesitate to ask us if there is anything we can do for you.”
“Thank you, Captain Ralston. We very much appreciate your hospitality.”
As the first mate led us to our quarters, I watched the sailors preparing the ship to depart Liverpool. They were moving about the ship quite hurriedly and I was mesmerized by all that they had to do. Some ropes were being undone while others were being secured. One sailor was yelling orders and they were all working together as if they were a well-oiled machine.
When we arrived at the fore of the ship, the first mate opened the first door to the premier of rooms. “This here is ye room, Yer Grace,” he said, gesturing at me to enter. As I stepped in, I could see that the room was very elegantly furnished. Although small, I believed that I would be quite comfortable here.
“And my son?” I asked Mr. Cooke.
“Aye, yes, the young duke will be stomping next door to ye, ma’am. Right here, through that there doorway.” He pointed to a door across the room.
I walked over to open it. It was a small cabin, smaller than my own, nicely furnished with a small hammock and nightstand. I nodded. I supposed that when embarking upon a merchant ship such as this, one could not afford to be choosy.
“What about my father, my maid, and Mrs. Kelly?”
His eyes dropped to the floor. I knew by his reaction to my question that I was not going to like the answer. “Yer Grace, the only other room in the fore of the ship is for our capt’n. Through that there door there is a small sitting room with two hammocks for the ladies. The capt’n is wanting them to sleep in there. But I am afraid, ma’am, that yer father will have to sleep below with the sailors.”
“I am afraid that is just not acceptable. I should like to speak with the captain directly. Would you please fetch him for me?”
Mr. Cooke nodded his head. Sounding defeated, he replied, “Yes, ma’am.”
After Mr. Cooke walked away, my father said, “Lizzie, you need not bother with this. I will be fine sleeping with the sailors, my dear. There is no need to stir up a fuss.”
“Papa, I will not have you sleeping down below. I would have hoped that when you made our travel arrangements you would have looked into this. The conditions down there are deplorable and I will not subject you to them at your age.”
“I guess I just did not think about accommodations for myself. I really do not mind sleeping with the sailors,” he replied.
“I’m sorry, Papa, but I will not yield.” I was adamant. There was no way my father was going to sleep with the sailors. He was already experiencing the many health issues that come with age. I was not going to subject him to more.
My father shook his head and mumbled under his breath, “Obstinate, headstrong girl!” He chuckled to himself. Although he felt I was being unreasonable, I knew he would not have it any other way. I knew I was his favorite; that had never been a secret. And I knew it was my strong will, wit, and obstinacy which he loved most about me. I was just like him.
We did not wait long before the captain arrived. “Your Grace, I understand that there is a problem with the accommodations?”
“Yes, there most certainly is. Your Mr. Cooke has informed me that my father is to be placed down below with the sailors. I am terribly sorry, Captain Ralston, but you must remedy this. My father is old and feeble.” I glanced over at my father and found him quietly chuckling at my last remark. I knew that I had made it sound like my father was deathly ill—if I continued, I was sure I could convince the captain that he was at death’s door. But I thought it better to leave things as they were and I just added, “There is sickness below and I cannot have him bunking with the sailors.”
“I see,” said the captain. “I am not sure what we can do about this situation, but give me a minute to think about it and perhaps we can come up with a solution.” He paused for several minutes and I could see his mind at work to fix our unwelcome situation. We waited for what seemed like an eternity for the captain to come up with a plan.
Finally, he spoke. “I think I might have an option that could work. Actually, I have two options. You tell me what you would prefer. First, Mr. Bennet could bunk with your son. I understand that the quarters in his room are small, but I could have one of the sailors put up another hammock. Or, if Mr. Bennet is so inclined, I can share my quarters with him. I have a hammock as well, but again, we could easily add another to accommodate him.”
I thought through the options that the captain had presented and then turned to my father. “Papa, what would you prefer?” I asked.
“Like I said, Lizzie dear, I will be fine with the crew.”
Before he could say any more, I interrupted him. “Papa, as I said before, I will not yield on this. You are not sleeping with them.”
“Very well then, Lizzie,” my father replied, defeated. He then looked over at the captain and said, “Captain Raltson, I do appreciate your kind offer to share your cabin, but I think I would be most comfortable with my grandson. If it is not too much trouble to hang another hammock, I would be most appreciative. And as you can see, it will help my daughter sleep at night since she will not be worrying about me.”
“It shall be done,” the captain replied. He then turned to me and said, “Forgive me, Your Grace. I apologize for the inconveniences where your father is concerned. I hope this arrangement appeases you.”
“It does, Captain Ralston. Thank you,” I replied.
As the captain started to walk away, Thomas called after him. “Captain Ralston, may I ask you a question, sir?”
The captain turned and walked back toward us. “Why yes, my dear lad, you may.”
“Can you tell me why everyone on the ship except my mama sleeps on hammocks?”
The captain looked surprised by Thomas’ question. “Well, Your Grace, as you will soon find out, once we set sail for open water, the ship tends to sway to and fro. It is much better to sleep on something that moves with the ship than it is to sleep on a stationary bed.”
“Oh, I see.” Thomas pondered the captain’s response for a second and then added, “But why does Mama have a bed, sir?”
The captain looked embarrassed and then answered, “Well Thomas, in all honesty, we thought your mother would be more comfortable sleeping on a stationary bed. We had that bed brought in specifically for her.” He looked up at me and smiled sheepishly.
“And I shall be more comfortable. Thank you for your kindness and consideration for my well-being,” I said, reassuring him that all was well between us.
“Very well then. Now that we have that all squared away, I must get us underway. If you will excuse me.” He bowed to me and took his leave.
“Mama, may we go up on deck? I want to be there when the ship pulls away from the dock. Please?” Thomas asked.
“Of course.” I knew he was anxious to watch the sailors work to maneuver the sails and, not knowing what was ahead for us, I wanted him to be happy every chance he got. I turned to Dawson and said, “Would you please unpack our things?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Dawson replied. She hurried into the room to do my bidding.
“Papa, Mrs. Kelly, would you like to join us on deck?” They both smiled and nodded and we all proceeded to return to the deck of the ship.
Not long after we arrived back up on the main deck, it was announ
ced that all those who were not sailing were to depart the ship. Just then the gangway was removed and the ship started to pull away from the dock. The sails were unfurled and we began making our way out of the port of Liverpool.
Once we pulled some distance away from the coast and out into open waters, the ship began to sway more vigorously. For some reason, the swaying did not seem to affect my father, Thomas, or me. But I could see that poor Mrs. Kelly was not faring so well, as she began to look a bit green. “Mrs. Kelly, if you would feel better returning to your quarters, I am sure Papa and I can manage with Thomas. I think you might feel better in your room and not out here watching the boat sway.”
“Oh, thank you, Your Grace! I am sure that I will get used to the ship’s movements soon. Thank you kindly, ma’am, for understanding.” She did not even give me a chance to respond as she rushed hurriedly to her room.
“Mama, I want to sleep up here on the deck! I love the movement of the ship, the sound of the waves, and the wind in my hair!” cried Thomas.
“Papa, have you been telling him stories again?”
My father winced a little at my accusation and said, “Well …”
I had asked my father time and time again to not put ideas into Thomas’ head, but he never heeded my words. I shook my head at him. I really need to discuss this with Father; sometimes the liberties he takes with Thomas are unacceptable.
“I am sorry, Thomas, but you can’t sleep up on the deck. What if we were to encounter a storm and you were thrown overboard in your sleep? You would never see me or your grandfather again. Is that what you want?”
Thomas looked up at me, almost terrified, and said, “Well, I did not think of that.” He paused for a moment and then added, “I think I should like to sleep in my cabin with my grandfather.” Thomas walked over to the railing to watch the waves. I had told him that once we got into open waters he might see some dolphins, so I was guessing he was already searching for them.
