The Glovemaker's Daughter

by Leah Fleming

  I did not notice how far out of the centre we had walked. Here the red brick and timber buildings were half built with wooden scaffolds to reach to the roof tops and the boys were darting around the site playing tag.

  ‘Be careful and no climbing,’ I yelled but the boys were too intent on their play to listen to me. They were like puppies let loose, egging each other on to further disobedience and I sensed trouble ahead if I did not discipline them.

  There were no builders in view to curb their antics and when they began to mount the scaffolding I grew afraid and screamed at them to come down. George made a rude gesture for which he would be beaten later if I had anything to do with it. He began to swing upside down from a ledge little more than a plank, his legs jerking as he was showing off to his brother. Then the flimsy plank buckled at the force of his jerks and suddenly gave way, sending him head first onto the ground.

  Sam watched in horror as his brother lay in a stupor and I was running to help him, dreading he was already dead. ‘Stupid lad! How dare you disobey me? Now look what you’ve done.’ His face was ashen and he didn’t move but I saw his chest rising. I had to find help and fast but the place was deserted. I flung my cloak over him and made Sam sit by his side calling him back to us. I have never felt such terror, knowing I needed help to carry him. How I prayed to our Lord for guidance and he answered my pleas with the sound of a pipe and drumbeat in the distance.

  ‘Help!’ I cried as I ran towards the sound of the music, praying that I was in the right direction. Turning a corner there was a troop of soldiers marching to a drumbeat, drilling in the sunshine, so without a second’s thought I dashed in front of their path, waving my arms. ‘Help, please stop. There’s a child who needs thee!’

  They almost collapsed into me and an officer came bounding up to see me sobbing on the ground. ‘The boy is sorely wounded,’ I said. ‘Please come.’

  He helped me up and with relief I saw those blue eyes and tawny hair. ‘Captain Thane, it is you?’

  I could hardly speak for the terror I felt, still shaking as I pointed in the direction of the building. ‘Hurry, it’s little George. He fell and can’t move. I fear the worst.’

  The Captain ordered his men to continue the march but brought two other soldiers along with him. Sam was sitting by his brother, his eyes wide with fear. ‘He won’t wake up, Joy.’

  Thane knelt down to examine him. ‘He’s breathing and there’s one hell of a crack on his head. He’s in the deep sleep that comes with such wounds, I fear. We need to find a doctor.’

  Just at that moment George opened his eyes. ‘Where am I?’ He tried to sit up but fainted again.

  ‘We have to get him back to the river boat and I’m late already. We are only here for the day. It is all my fault.’

  ‘Let me carry the boy and you go ahead to warn the others of his coming. What in God’s name were they doing up there?’ He was giving me such a stern look. I wanted to weep but refused to show him my weakness. ‘They raced ahead. I called them back but they refused to obey.’

  ‘Lads will be lads, Miss Moorside.’

  ‘Aye, more’s the pity and now look at the state of him.’ I was full of the anger that comes with relief and embarrassment. ‘What will I say to his mother?’ I stormed ahead, dragging poor Sam by the hand while Thane carried George tenderly in his arms.

  We made a sorry party returning through the streets. Crowds parted to make way for the injured child with an escort of redcoats. When we reached the landing I saw the look of horror on Mary’s face. ‘You’d better explain yourself,’ she snapped but it was Sam who came to my rescue.

  ‘We ran off. Joy tried to stop him climbing up. He was naughty and the soldiers came to help us.’

  ‘Did they indeed?’

  ‘No, Ma’am. Miss Moorside did everything to save him. It is her prompt action that has gotten him here.’

  Joseph stepped forward holding out his hand. ‘We have our Good Samaritan here to thank as well. I recognise thee, soldier from the ship. Our boy looks no worse for his lesson.’

  I wasn’t so sure, for George was very groggy and his eyes fluttered. ‘Perhaps we should stay and let a doctor see him?’ I ventured.

  ‘Later. When we return, Friend Thomas will check him over.’

  There was no time to thank Thane as I would have wished. Once more he had come to my rescue. ‘We thank thee, Captain’ was all that was said, for the passengers were anxious to be out onto the river. As the boat rowed out into the busy harbour I stood to wave a farewell to him as he watched us depart.

  ‘Don’t be forward, Joy,’ Mary whispered.

  ‘Why not, he helped rescue thy son. He deserves our sincere thanks.’

  ‘If you had kept a weather eye on my boys this never would have happened,’ she chided me.

  ‘It was not my intent,’ I replied, suddenly so weary, trying to stay calm whilst choking with rage. How I wished I could linger in the city, among the bustle of the streets with Captain Thane by my side. If only I had chosen to go with the Boyers when I had the chance, instead of returning upriver to an uncertain future.

  27

  The journey back was fraught with concern for the sick boy as he fainted back into another sleep and a swelling rose up on his forehead. We sat in silent prayer for his wellbeing. No one looked in my direction but I felt their blame. Now we must rely on the medications of the new apothecary, Thomas Black, whom I had yet to examine more closely. Was my strange sense of recognition correct?

  It was pitch black on our return as we made our way to Jacob’s lodging with George but I was bid to take Liddy and Sam back to our own cabin and was no party to their meeting. I swallowed back tears at this rejection, knowing I must have failed the lad in some way. All the pleasure of our day’s outing, the discovery of Sabine and her shop, exploring the city and that sudden meeting with the Captain, had long faded.

  ‘Is our Georgie going to die?’ Sam asked as I tucked him into the bed, seeing the dent in the pillow where George’s head usually lay.

  ‘Of course not,’ I snapped. ‘We won’t let him, will we?’ I paced the cabin floor praying for some cure that would restore the boy back to us whole. If all we were depending on was Titus Cranke in disguise, convert or not, I knew his potions were not worthy of the name. Suddenly White Deer came into my mind from nowhere.

  The wise men of her village had many medicines from the forest that healed their sick. Perhaps they had something we could use. I had not seen her since before winter set in; yet I felt sure they might know how to cure the boy.

  Mary would never let a native into the house but I could get a recipe or some knowledge to share from them.

  Mary and Joseph returned late in the night with George’s head bound to reduce the swelling. He still did not stir from his deep sleep. His father’s face was white with worry.

  ‘Did Friend Thomas have a cure-all?’ I whispered.

  ‘He says it is too early for potions. We must wait until he wakes. He must rest and sleep on and let the swelling down.’

  I could have told them that. At least this would give me time to seek answers from the Lenape tribe. It was only this hope that allowed me to sleep a little and then take my watch over him while the others wept and prayed.

  At dawn’s first light I rose to walk the well-trodden path to the Lenape village, carrying a little bundle of gifts for my friend. I did not stop to ask permission from my master. They must punish me later.

  Walking alone into the forest held no fear for me for I knew our neighbours were peace-loving people and bore us no ill will as yet. But I was not sure if I would be welcomed, having stayed away so long. I prayed someone with English on their tongue would be around to help me get the advice I felt sure would help us.

  Who should be the first person I saw working in the field but White Deer. She looked up and smiled shyly. We greeted each other with nods of the head and gestures of friendship. The baby carried on the cradle board had grown round with chubby cheeks
and a cheeky smile as he stared at my white face. We walked back to her hut. ‘Come,’ she said.

  ‘English?’ I grinned in surprise.

  ‘Yes,’ she said proudly. ‘My brother, Little Bear has more words.’ He sat out in the square and came to join us. I presented my gifts as is the custom and praised his new leather britches. Then I began to mime and tell about George’s wound. ‘He will not wake up.’

  ‘Ask the medicine man. He will know but first we must ask if he will see you.’

  White Deer boiled water on the fire and gave me a strange herb tea that I found refreshing and some bread made from ground corn. Then I was summoned to a hut at the far end of the village where an old man with a face like cracked leather sat smoking his pipe, surrounded by baskets of dried herbs. The hut reeked of tobacco and I bowed and presented a gift of tobacco that White Deer said I must offer before I asked a favour. Little Bear explained my visit and waited to be my interpreter.

  ‘How long since the boy fell?’ The old man pointed at me.

  ‘Yesterday,’ I replied.

  ‘Do his eyes roll? Has he been sick?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Has he swelling and where?’

  I pointed to the place on my own face.

  ‘Then you must set the swelling free or it will be bad for him.’

  But how? I looked to Little Bear. I didn’t understand. They talked at length before he gave me his answer.

  ‘When a warrior is wounded by a fall, we scrape off the hair and scalp to make a hole in the bone so all the badness can be released. Leave the swelling too long and the head cannot contain its contents. He will die.’

  ‘Scalp him, are you saying?’ I knew this was what angry warriors did to their victims.

  ‘No,’ he said pointing to his own shaven scalp. ‘Medicine man says it must be done with a special tool to bore into the skull and remove an opening. A medicine man will know how to do this.’

  ‘Can he do this?’

  Little Bear shook his head. ‘No, not for your boy, seek one of your own medicine men, but he will give you special herbs to soothe any pain.’

  The old man dipped his hand into a basket and pulled out a little bag. ‘Use only a little for it has big power and make many prayers to his Guardian spirit.’

  ‘Wanishi, thank you.’ I bowed and held my hands together in greeting, knowing it would be difficult to explain all this to George’s parents.

  I ran back to Good Hope along the river path hoping I hadn’t been missed, but of course I had and got another telling off from Mary.

  This was not the time to alarm her with my news so I got on with my daily chores, determined to take this remedy further. Who better than the new apothecary to share this cure? It would give me an excuse to meet him at close quarters. Thank goodness I had many messages to take in the town and sped down the track for there was no time to lose if Georgie was to be saved.

  I came upon Thomas’s sister, Tamar, by the well and realised at once that this was not Dora Cranke but a tall thin woman who jumped when I spoke. ‘Friend Tamar, we have not met before. I am Joy from Emsworth’s Farm. Is Friend Thomas at his work?’

  She nodded, pointing to the cabin, not uttering a word of greeting, contrary to our custom. Her dark eyes were glassy and dull. It was as if she moved in a dream but it was a relief not to be faced with my old enemy, Dora. I slipped silently through the door, half expecting Jacob to be inside, but relieved to discover that he would not be party to my strange mission.

  The man in the black doublet and britches was about his business clearing shelves and pots, whistling, and then as he looked up I saw a flicker of recognition on his face.

  ‘So, Titus,’ I smiled. ‘It is you then.’ There was no doubt in my mind.

  ‘Thee’s mistaken, young lady. I am Thomas Black. How can I help, a love potion perhaps?’ Titus Cranke was older, thinner and up to the same tricks. I was not going to be fooled by his banter.

  ‘But you know me from way back in Leeds. Where is Dora, thy wife?’

  ‘Nay lass, thee’s mistaken. I know you not, never clapped eyes on you afore. Now scarper . . .’ That was not how true Friends greeted each other. I stood firm.

  ‘I’ve come about Georgie Emsworth. I am their bondswoman, Joy Moorside, as you well know, but no matter. I think the boy needs greater physic than we first thought.’

  ‘Aye, so you’re the careless wench that was the cause of the injury, I hear.’ There was steel in his eyes. He knew me and I knew him but it would be my word against his and at the moment all that mattered was getting my charge well again. Was he playing a cat and mouse game with me? ‘And a doctor as well as a maid?’ he sneered.

  ‘I saw a medicine man from the Lenape village this morning, a wise old man who suggests that George may need a surgeon’s knife to release the swelling by removing a bit of skull bone.’

  ‘Ah, trepanning,’ he nodded. ‘Yes, that can be done to release venom from a brain but it is a dangerous operation. You are not suggesting we let a savage loose on a Christian boy’s head to scalp him?’ he roared. ‘You have the strangest notions, girl. Are you expecting me to risk my reputation in such actions? Off you go. Tamar will see you out.’ In his anger he had reverted to the ‘you’ rather than ‘thee’, I noted.

  The woman stood in silent witness to all our conversation but said nothing. I turned to her for help. ‘I am trying to help a sick child. There has to be someone who can perform this in safety.’

  ‘Aye, in Philadelphia for a bonny penny, I don’t think your master can pay their fee,’ he sneered. She said nothing.

  That was true enough but that did not stop us holding one of our regular collections within the meeting house to help those in need. If we all pooled together there would be enough to pay for his treatment and I must make my own contribution.

  I set off back up the track in turmoil. Was it really Titus before me or was I mistaken? Had I not shared a journey with him for many weeks? All I could think of was if the boy had woken yet. How could we let him sleep unto death for the want of a few pieces of silver?

  Mary was waiting for me at the door, her face aged with worry. ‘Where’ve you been? Why when I call, are you never around? Joseph has gone to a special meeting. Liddy’s been fretting all day.’

  We sat at our knitting until Joseph returned in a better spirit. ‘Friend Jacob did us a mighty favour when he lodged the healer Black. They have come up with a wondrous idea to save our son. Thomas suggests we take him to a surgeon in Philadelphia to open his skull to release the swelling. This is an ancient cure for such injuries, we are told on good authority. There will be a collection to pay for this service. All the elders agreed after hearing his fine words. Praise the Lord for such a welcome addition to our township.’

  I sighed. Trust Titus to take my idea and claim it as his own. Only that crook knew how to charm his way into everyone’s favour. In fairness, if the idea had come from me it would not have been so well received. Better for George if it came from him but it rankled just the same.

  Mary swooned at the thought of such treatment. ‘Mercy on my poor boy, how can we let them do this to him?’

  ‘It’s our only chance to bring him back to us whole,’ I answered. She turned on me with scorn.

  ‘What does you know about owt? He’s not your bairn.’

  ‘Now then, Mary, the girl means well. Be thankful that Friend Thomas can organise the travel and take his sister.’

  ‘Then let me go with them,’ I pleaded. ‘Georgie must not awake with strangers or he will be frightened. Besides I have something to sell to help pay for all this, seeing as it is partly my fault.’

  ‘Nay, lass, the boy himself was laiking about and disobeyed thee,’ Joseph came to my rescue. ‘Happen she’s right, mother.’

  ‘It is me he will want, not her,’ Mary argued.

  ‘But the other children need their mother for comfort at this time. Let Joy do her bit to help.’

  How good it was that Jos
eph was on my side in this. I wanted to make sure Titus did nothing to jeopardise the outcome. I recalled those stolen children and I didn’t trust him but now was not the time to denounce him as a fraud. When the opportunity presented itself I would speak out at meeting about my dealings with the man who could do no wrong at present. Georgie’s life must come first however, no matter what the cost.

  28

  They carried George onto the boat, his mother wrapping blankets around him, weeping and kissing his hand. I didn’t like the size of that swelling on his forehead. The Blacks came on board, not looking at me. I knew Titus would not be happy to see me there. I was so sure it was him and yet once more doubts crept in, for he was much aged.

  In my leather bag I carried my grandmother’s gloves for it was the only thing of value I possessed to sell towards the boy’s treatment fee. He was to lodge at the surgeon’s house recommended to our elders by none other than Doctor Thomas Wynne, William Penn’s personal physician. Word had got round Friends in the city about the boy’s injury and help was offered freely. We were to be lodged with a Yorkshire family nearby and it would give me a chance to observe Titus more closely. I wanted to catch him off guard.

  It was this sister who puzzled me and I asked Jacob her story. ‘She was thrown overboard in the shipwreck and watched many Friends drown. Thomas rescued her and kept her afloat but the shock has made her dumb.’

  Why did I did not believe this story? Yet there was such a look of fear in her eyes. She sat like a wooden doll slumped against the boat, staring with a fixed expression bereft of any sign of life. Was this journey on water reminding her of the dreadful wrecking she had endured? Who was I to sit in judgement on her terror?

  I was determined not to leave Georgie’s side, hoping the fresh river breeze would rouse him but he slept on. After landing he was conveyed by carriage to the doctor’s fine brick house where he was placed in an upper room for examination.