As it was a tight space below deck where Beatty worked on the injured men, they both agreed that Watson would help the injured men on deck while Beatty did the amputations below deck so the crew would not see the work he was doing.
The admiral was carried below and later Beatty came up on deck and said as he placed his hand on Watson’s shoulder, “Lord Nelson passed at 4:30 p.m.”
Evening came and the dark and the sea covered all traces of what had taken place. Both sides licked their wounds as the British consolidated their gains. The British captured or destroyed 18 ships. The French and Spanish fleet lost 3,243 men killed, 2,538 wounded and around 7,000 captured. British losses including Nelson, numbered 458 killed and 1,208 wounded.
After the battle Vice Admiral Collingwood took over Admiral Nelson’s command and ordered the HMS Pickle to join him. Captain Lapenotiere’s HMS Pickle rescued two women and over 200 men from the French ship Achille. He saw the signal and went to the admiral where he received orders to go full sail to England and tell of the victory in battle and loss of Admiral Nelson.
Watson knew from the history books that the HMS Pickle would reach Falmouth, England on November 4, 1805 and he stood on the deck as Captain Lapenotiere left the admiral’s cabin clutching a leather dispatch carrier. Seeing his chance, Watson stepped forward and said, “Greetings, Captain.”
“Ah, Surgeon Watson. I’m glad to see that you have survived the battle. Were you used in your capacity as surgeon?”
“I was and I have it on good word that you have taken a few hundred prisoners and as my job here is done, I would truly enjoy a trip back to the admiralty aboard the Pickle. Perhaps another hand would help out with those extra passengers?”
“Indeed it would. Grab your gear and . . . “
Watson picked up his valise and said, “I have it here, sir.”
“Then let us be off for as you might guess my job is to let the world know of Admiral Nelson and the Battle of Trafalgar.”
They went down the wood and rope ladder and into the Pickle’s long boat.
The trip back to England was fast and somber. The crew went about their business with mixed feelings: A victorious sea battle and the death of their beloved Admiral Nelson. Watson dined almost every evening with the captain as the surgeon was seen as one of the victorious seaman of the battle. He was asked the same question over and over again: ‘Did you see the admiral get shot?’ He answered that he did but the smoke from the cannons blurred his vision. I’m sure, he thought as he recalled the moment, that it was the gunsmoke that brought tears to my eyes.
DATELINE: NOVEMBER 4, 1805 PLACE: FALMOUTH, ENGLAND
The HMS Pickle entered Falmouth Harbor and even as she dropped anchor, her long boat was in the water and her crew pulling with all their might towards the shore. Captain Lapenotiere faced forward as he held tightly onto his leather dispatch carrier. Surgeon Watson sat next to him on the hard wooden seat and also looked forward. Suddenly the captain turned to him and said, “Surgeon Watson, as I said I must travel fast and light so best that I ride alone. I do hope to see you again and shall inquire of your whereabouts when I take command of a fighting ship.”
As the boat touched the wooden wharf the captain sprang up and out of the boat. He turned and waved to Watson who waved back, “Safe journey, sir.”
Watson followed him out of the long boat and saw him talking to a naval officer who suddenly became very animated and ran to the command post of the Falmouth Naval base. They both exited the building and a mail coach was brought around to the front. The captain climbed in and the driver slapped the horse’s rump causing the carriage to take off like the wind.
Watson knew that Captain Lapenotiere would take an exhausting series of mail coaches and horses overland to London where he would arrive on November 6, 1805. His journey was about 271 miles and involved twenty-one changes of horses, to give the dispatches to William Marsden, Secretary of the Navy, with the simple words, “Sir, we have gained a great victory. But we have lost Lord Nelson.” Watson also knew that Captain Lapenotiere was rewarded for his feat with a promotion to Commander, a sword from the Lloyd’s Patriotic Fund and 500 pounds in cash.
Watson was at a crossroads with his feelings: Excited that he came through all that he had and tired by going through all that he had. Get hold of yourself, Watson, he thought as he stood on a hard packed dirt road that passed through the navy base. This is not the time to become weary. Remember that you have just traveled aboard the HMS Victory with Admiral Nelson and saw action in the Battle of Trafalgar.
As a doctor of the late 1800s, he knew that many men after they were in a battle felt that everything else was just child’s play. They sought to replay the battle over and over again often wondering why they survived when the man standing right next to them was killed. Often they sought the bottle as a remedy or worse. He shook his head and after straightening out whispered beneath his breath, “Physician, heal thyself.”
He took a few steps towards the Naval office when a carriage came up the road from behind him. He paused to let it pass and was puzzled when it stopped next to him and the door opened and Bill and Shirley got out.
A surprised Watson said, “Of course! You knew that I’d be here!”
“Of course, silly,” Shirley said as she slid her arm in his and placed a peck on his well-tanned cheek. “We knew from the history books that the HMS Pickle stopped here to allow the captain to ride to London with the news.”
Bill added as he paid the driver and the coach took off, “We decided to meet you here rather than wait for your arrival in London.”
“But,” said Watson as he watched the empty coach drive away, “Won’t we need that carriage to take us to London?”
Shirley grinned and said, “No. The Penquin is coming down the Channel as we speak. It’s the route Captain Whiting takes to get to New York so we asked him to make a quick stop off of Falmouth and pick us up and he agreed. It should be here in one hour.”
“However,” added Shirley, “we shall need to meet her out a bit in the Channel. We shall need a boat.”
“Well,’ said Watson, “perhaps I can have the navy bring us out to meet her.”
With a shrug, Bill and Shirley followed him to the office that the captain had gone to.
The office was small with a wall-to-wall desk. The young officer behind the desk looked up as they entered.
“Hello, Surgeon. I saw you come in from the HMS Pickle with Captain Lapenotiere. Were you also in the battle?”
Watson stood tall, “I was.”
His eyes lit up, “And how might I help you, Surgeon?”
“As you have seen I’ve just come off the HMS Pickle.” He tilted his head at his valise and went on, “I have a dispatch for another ship that will be coming down the Channel in an hour. I need a longboat to take the three of us out and meet her. Can you provide one for us and would you tell me your name so I might spell it correctly in my dispatch.”
The young man’s face lit up even more. “Why, yes, of course. We have a small boat and seaman Smyth will be only to pleased to row you out, Surgeon. And should you write my name in your dispatch the spelling is, Kowalski, Joseph Kowalski.”
Seaman Smyth was a muscular young man who easily rowed the boat with the three passengers out to a spot they felt would be fine for a pickup. It was fifteen minutes later when the Penquin arrived and Bill tipped the young seaman with what was probably six months wages before they went up the wood and rope ladder. After shaking hands with Captain Whiting they went to their respective cabins to start the trip back to New York of 1805.
DATELINE: NOVEMBER 25, 1805 PLACE: NEW YORK CITY
After eating breakfast with Captain Whiting the three time travelers got their valises ready and after docking at eleven a.m. they hired a cab. “As far north as the city is,” said Bill to the cab driver. “We wish to study the native trees and fauna.”
The man shrugged and they were off. Soon the streets dwindled down to a few that were
cobblestoned and others that were just hard packed dirt or cut wood. As the tree line stopped forward movement they got out and paid the driver who quickly left the area.
“It’s about a ten minute walk in the woods,” Bill said as he led the way. It started to rain as they went through the woods and Bill had them stop when he thought he heard something move in the woods. When it was quiet again he started to lead the way when all of the sudden a deep growl came from behind them. Bill grabbed Shirley and put her behind him as he picked up a tree branch. It went quiet again and he started to move slowly forward when the low lying bushes separated and a black bear entered the small clearing they were in.
“Don’t anyone move,” Bill said in a low tone of voice as the three of them looked at the growling animal. He raised the branch and shouted, “Get back!”
It worked for a moment as the bear hesitated and Bill had the other two start to walk away.
Suddenly the bear stood on its hind legs and growled before it dropped down on all four and started to run at them. Before the three could even start to run a horrible ear-piercing scream came from behind the charging bear causing it to stop and turn to see the new challenger. It was the huge Native American they had encountered on their way into New York and he stood facing the bear with a long spear in his hands. He feinted an attack and jabbed at the now standing bear. They both growled at each other and when the bear swiped at him the man jabbed the spear and pierced its arm. Not a killing blow but a painful one. He knew that the bear would either charge madly or run off to lick its wound and he relaxed his stance as the bear ran off into the thick woods. From behind another tree stepped his mate carrying their baby. The man stood still and Bill stepped forward with his hand held up and said, “Friend.”
The man just looked as Watson stepped up behind Bill and placed a pocketknife in his hand. “You may give this to him if you wish.”
Bill showed the man the folded knife and he just looked at the mother-of-pearl knife body. Bill slowly opened the longer of the two blades it held and as it locked in place. The man’s eyes went wide.
Bill said as he handed the man the pocketknife, “For you, my friend. For saving our lives.” Bill placed it in the palm of his large hand. The man said something that they didn’t understand but his smile spoke volumes. The woman said something softly and he nodded as he tried to close the blade. As it was in the locked position he handed it to Bill and said something else.
“Bill,” said Shirley, “I do believe that he wants instructions.”
“Ah, yes,” he answered as he showed the man how to press on the locking pin to close it and again to open it. The man smiled and nodded as Bill passed it back to him. This time he easily opened and closed it.
He said something else and although they didn’t understand him they understood his hand gestures: leave now before the bear gets over his wound.
Bill took his advice and soon the three stood by the time portal. He spotted the stones he had set up as a guide to himself and after kicking them away he reached out between two young trees and felt for the doorknob. Feeling the cool metallic orb he grasped and turned it then looked around and seeing the area clear, he pulled it open just enough for the three time travelers to slip into the stairwell. Safely inside, he closed it behind them.
For the next 210 years the Iroquois American Indians told of the two men and one woman who disappeared right before the family of Sagoyewapha in the great woods.
Safely inside the stairwell of the 1800 Club, Bill took out his Time Frequency Modulator, typed in ‘SAMSON’ and then November 25, 2015, 12:00 p.m. and pressed the activate button.
DATELINE: NOVEMBER 25, 2015 PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB, NEW YORK CITY
At the landing that led to Bill’s den there was the sound of sniffing and pawing at the door as Samson sensed his master’s return. Bill opened the door and the beagle leaped and howled his greetings as Watson joined Bill and Shirley scratch his floppy ears.
“Welcome home, all,” said Matt with a smile.
“Has all been well, Matt?” asked Bill.
“Absolutely, sir.”
Once again Shirley stepped up and hugged him as she said, “Matt, thank you for all of the wonderful accommodations. As usual they were outstanding!”
“Indeed they were,” added Watson, “As were the orders from the Admiralty.”
Matt nodded shyly and asked, “Then I take it that the mission was a success?”
Now it was Watson who nodded shyly.
“Outstanding!” said Matt as placed the leash on Samson. “I shall be right back as I’m taking Samson out for a fast walk. Lunch in one hour?”
“Sounds good to me,” answered Bill as he looked questioningly at Shirley and Watson. Both nodded and Matt left the den.
Before lunch the three went to their rooms, showered and changed into everyday clothes of 2015. Bill was happy that Watson insisted on writing up his report even though Bill told him to do it when he got back to England and send it to him by mail.
He wrote it up in long hand and it took Bill a bit of prompting before Watson used his Bic ballpoint pen.
That evening the three sat in the alcove with the lights dimmed as they ate a dinner of Fish and Chips with Mushy Peas.
Watson smiled as he said, “Matt has outdone himself with this evening’s meal. I doubt that I’ve had a better tasting fish and chips and mushy peas in any part of England.”
The grandfather clock in the den struck nine and Watson closed the medical book he was reading, stretched and said as he stood, “Bill, I must admit to looking forward to the mattress in my room, and I mean to take advantage of it by turning in early. I shall see you two in the morning.”
Shirley nodded, “I shall be doing the same as I am tired myself and tomorrow we travel once again, dear Watson.”
“Your ship leaves New York at eleven in the morning so I asked Matt to have breakfast ready at eight,” said Bill.
Shirley and Watson went to their rooms and Samson followed Bill into his bedroom. Bill went to the fireplace and Samson leaped onto his bed, circled and settled down next to Bill’s pillow. Bill went into the bathroom and came out dressed in his white terrycloth robe just as a tap sounded on the door. Samson’s ears perked as Bill opened it and Shirley entered wearing her white terrycloth robe. The fire crackled and its flames sent their shadows, which had now become one, against the wall. Samson watched as the couple giggled and slid under the bearskin rug on the floor at the foot of the bed.
Watson rolled over as he thought, I hope Shirley sleeps well as she seems restless this evening. I do believe that she left her room, probably to get a cup of tea as she tries to sleep.
At breakfast the next morning Watson was now sure that Shirley had not slept well last night as she looked quite tired this morning. “Worry not, Shirley, I’m quite sure that you will get all the rest and sleep you need aboard the ship back to England.”
She held in the grin as she shook her head and answered, “Oh, I don’t doubt that at all, my friend. I shall have plenty of rest and sleep aboard the ship.” She glanced at Bill who also looked as though he hadn’t slept last night.
After breakfast the three of them went down the stairs and stood at the security door that would lead to the club’s garden. Both Shirley and Watson wore one of the outfits they had brought along with them and Bill wore a trim three-piece black suit and high hat and as it was windy, a black high collared long coat. Around the neck of his white ascot was a puffy red bowtie that matched his breast pocket silk handkerchief. Bill took his Time Frequency Modulator and after entering his password, entered November 26, 1898, 9:30 a.m. and pressed activate before opening the door.
DATELINE: NOVEMBER 26, 1898 9:30 A.M. PLACE: THE 1800 CLUB’S GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY
It was windy and the three time travelers pulled their coats tightly against them. Except for the evergreens the beautiful garden was cut back for the winter. Bill opened the gate and the three stepped out of the garden and onto the slate
gray sidewalk.
Of the three time travelers Watson was the most cheerful as Bill and Shirley tended to walk slowly with her arm in his as they sought a carriage.
“There!” called out Watson as he pointed to a cab parked at a corner of the street. “There’s a cab, Shirley.”
She squeezed Bill’s arm as they approached the cab.
“I’ll miss you, my love,” she said quietly.
“I’ll miss you too,” said Bill. “But I’m so grateful for the time we had together as Watson was on the mission.”
She grinned and added, “And the time we shared beneath the bearskin rug?”
He pecked her cheek as they walked slowly, “That bearskin rug is our sanctuary. Will you write me?”
“Every day,” I promise.” She smiled and said with a teasing look on her face, “Perhaps I shall come over and meet you in Diamonds for a drink.”
“That would be so great.”
“I say, fellow,” said Watson to the cab driver, “are you in service?”
The man with a tall beaver skin hat shrugged his very wide shoulders, pulled on his long black mustache and answered, “Am I in service?” he shrugged again and looked at one of the other two drivers and with another shrug asked, “Am I in service, boys?”
They both shrugged and one said, “If he means can you give him a ride, then yeah, you’re in service.”
He looked at Watson and asked, “Do you need a ride, sir?”
“Yes! We would like to hire you.”
TimeTravel Adventures of The 1800 Club: Book 12 Page 16
