Chapter 26
"Zee hooks are coming," reports Lissette up on lookout. I lift my head and watch the upper hatch being opened. It is the day after the flogging, and I cannot yet put on my shirt. I must lie facedown and not move.
Yesterday, about an hour after the spectacle of my whipping was over, the burgoo was brought down by a highly agitated Hughie ... "Mary hurt? Captain hurt Mary? Mister hurt Mary? Mary? Where are you? Mary?" He was looking wildly about, the burgoo sloshing out of the pot and over his feet. "Nothin better happen to Mary..." Hughie's dim, but not so dim as he can't tell that something has happened.
"No, Hughie, I ain't hurt. Ain't no one hurt me," I managed to gasp, motioning for some of the girls to get in front of me so he couldn't see. We don't need him going berserk, not yet, anyway. "I'm just a bit sick is all. A little tummy ache. I'll be fine. Just you dish out that burgoo now, Hughie, 'cause we'll all sure eat it now." Now that all have seen what Captain Blodgett is capable of doing.
Frances Wallace and Helen Bailey caught my eye and my meaning and reached through the bars to pet Hughie and say soothing things to him, and he calmed down and started handing out the suddenly delicious burgoo to the hungry girls.
It was dear Sylvie who spooned my ration into my mouth before she had hers. In spite of my pain, the burgoo tasted wondrous good, as did the biscuit.
Not long after that, Sammy Nettles came down into the hatchway with a spool of thread and a needle attached and shoved it through the bars.
"Captain says use this to sew up Smart-mouth's shirt. Can't have her runnin' round half nekkid, he says." Nettles giggled. "All right with me, though. Oh, yes." He craned his head around, trying to look up at me on the Balcony, but the angle ain't right and he couldn't. Good.
Annie, who was near the door, went to get the needle and thread, but Nettles jerked his hand back as she reached out her own.
"Now, now," he said, "not so fast there, girly. You're a pretty one, you are. How's about a little kiss first?"
"Kiss you?" retorted Annie in disgust. "I'd rather kiss a pig! Now, give me that or I'll tell the Captain you ain't obeying his orders."
Nettles flung the spool in with a curse and left, needlessly giving Hughie a cuff on the head as he went out. When they were sure he was gone, Annie and Caroline and Sylvie came over to me and gently raised my upper body enough to peel off the remnants of my undershirt. I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry out as this was being done, and it was done most tenderly, but still I could not stifle a groan—any movement of the skin back there brought me the greatest agony.
Four or five unripped petticoats were laid out beneath me after I was lifted, so that when I was laid back down, I did not have my bare chest lying against the rough slatting. Thank you, Sisters.
Thinking of my sisters and the bond we have made, I looked out to the Stage and saw Elspeth's huddled form lying there, curled into a ball. I reflected that once again a bargain had been made, sealed with blood and pain, and that not all the pain was mine.
"Saw you out there, this mornin', Smart-mouth, yes I did. When you got your ass whipped. Ahhh, that was some fine it was..."
Damn. We had thought that Sammy Nettles had left, but the louse had merely gone on deck and had crouched at the bars under the lifted flap so that he could gaze down at me, while not being seen by those on the quarterdeck.
"I ain't had such a good time since we started on this trip, no, I sure ain't." He had his hands wrapped around the bars with his face in between, shining with sweat. "Girl, you twisted and screamed, oh, man, it was so fine—"
"Whyn't you go back and sit on the Captain's lap and leave me alone," said I, noticing that Clarissa was slipping along the bulkhead behind me.
"Wot? Wot do you mean by that?" demanded Sammy, his pleasure in my pain suddenly gone.
And that's when Clarissa swung around and, with all her might, hit Sammy hard on the knuckles with her cup.
"Yeeow!" he howled, recoiling backward.
"You git the hell outta here, you dirty thing," hissed Clarissa as Nettles slunk away, whining over his bashed hand.
"Thanks, Clarissa," I said, and I lowered my face to the backs of my hands again and closed my eyes. I expected Clarissa to flounce off again but she didn't. I sensed her still standing there and looking down upon me. I opened my eyes. "What?" I asked.
For a while she didn't say anything, just looked at me. Then, finally, "After Blodgett whipped you three times with that awful thing, he pulled your head back and asked you if anyone else was in on the strike ... any other leaders ... and said he'd stop whippin' you if you told ... You shook your head no and so he kept on whippin' on you..."
Hmmm ... I did dimly remember something like that happening, but the searing pain was such that I'm sure I didn't even know what he was saying, let alone being sensible enough to reply. If I did shake my head no it was in begging him to stop.
"...and ... and I don't know ... if he had been doin' that to me ... if I would have told on you and Dolley. I don't know."
I worked up a chuckle and said, "Come on, Clarissa, if it was you he was asking that question of, you would've lunged up and bitten off his ear, you know that. Now stop doubting yourself. We don't need that." I closed my eyes again and said no more, but I sensed that she stood there for a while before moving off.
There was no Storytime last night, and there will be none tonight.
I bring myself back to the present and watch the top hatch open and the light pour in once again. As the hooks come in, Abby Pierce comes to me with her petticoat.
"Do ... do you want me to put this over you so they won't see you like this?" she asks. She's as quivery nervous as ever, but she's holding up. Just goes to show, you never can tell who's going to stand steady and who ain't.
"No, thanks, Abby. Just leave it be. And, everybody, play along with this," I say, and scootch myself—ouch ouch ouch!—over to the edge of the Balcony so I can look up at the hatch. And so Mick and Keefe can look down at me. Then I start in to crying.
And it's full-scale, openmouthed, no-holds-barred bawl-ing—tears pour out of my eyes, I buck, I hiccup, I wail, I moan. It ain't hard to do, as I've got plenty to cry about and my back still hurts like hell. When I see the sailors' heads appear at the edge of the open hatch, I pause long enough to look up at them through my teary eyelashes and whimper, "Sorry, lads, this is all the show you'll get today, lads ... boo hoo hoo gasp whimper... and if you're enjoyin' lookin' at what he done to me, then shame on you ... hoo hoo hoo... shame on you both, shame on all of yiz! I thought you was me mates, I did ... snivel, aaaarrrgh, cry, cry, cry..."
Then I lay my head back down on my hands and weep more quietly and wait. Dolley and Barbara go down to handle the hooks. As the first tub is raised, I can hear Mick and Keefe mumbling as they do the job.
...filthy bastard ... there's lots better things to do with a piece like that than flog it half t'death ... and 'e 'ad to pick our game little Cockney girl to beat on ... couldn't pick one of the stuck-up types, no...'e messed up our fun, e did...'taint right.
And wonder of wonders, when the tubs come back in, the one is rinsed and the other is rinsed and filled with clean salt water.
Hmmm...
I think on this for a while and then I think on other things, then what I think is, The girls are ready. I lift my head and announce, "Officers' Call," and Dolley and Clarissa are soon by my side.
Chapter 27
James Fletcher
The Pig and Whistle
Boston, Massachusetts, USA
June 3, 1806
Miss Jacky Faber
Somewhere in the World, God Willing
My Dearest Jacky,
Once again I write letters to a phantom. While I despair of ever seeing you again, I rejoice in the possibility that you might still be alive. I shall recount the events since last I wrote in the faint but fervent hope that someday you might read these lines.
The attempts to clear your name did not go well—the Admiralty remains obstinate in their demands for your return to their custody and I have washed my hands of the whole affair. So be it, I declared, if she and I have to spend our lives in the outer reaches of the world, then that is how it will be. I am sure the Colonies have their charms.
I booked passage for New York the next day, choosing that port instead of Boston in case Admiralty Intelligence was keeping an eye on me and my travels, the better to find you. My father and brother came down to the pier to see me off, and many tears were shed, for we assumed that I might never come back that way again. My mother, also, came down that day, but I sent word that I would not receive her. So from where I stood, I observed her only dimly as a huddled, hunched figure seated alone in the coach.
The voyage itself was a joy—fair winds, gentle seas, good company at the Captain's table, I could not have wished for more—that combined with the anticipated joy of once more holding you in my arms, and this time for good and ever.
That, of course, was not to be. I arrived in New York, made sure I was not being followed, and took a coach, under an assumed name, for Boston. Foolishly, I made plans for our future on the way: I would first see that you were well set up in good lodging, and I would then seek gainful employment before presuming to ask you to wed. After all, how could I ask you to enter such a state without being in a position to keep and care for you in at least a modest manner? I planned first to see if the American Navy had any use for junior lieutenants, and failing that, I would seek a berth on a merchantman.
Arriving in Boston, full of hope, I looked up your attorney, Mr. Pickering, to ascertain your whereabouts, and received the devastating news. Mr. Pickering was most soothing and kind and immediately put me in touch with your man Higgins. I cannot tell you, Jacky, what an invaluable man Higgins is—he put my storming mind to some rest with his calm, concise, and careful telling of the events and his solid suspicions that the disappearance of the girls of the Lawson Peabody was an abduction and not a simple seaborne tragedy. He reported that he had written to me of these happenings, but I did not receive his letter, having already sailed.
Higgins set me up at the Pig and Whistle, where I met many of your friends who could not be more concerned over your welfare. He then took me to the courthouse and showed me the remaining evidence of the crime—the bonnets, the purses, the shawls that came ashore following that awful day.
I have been introduced to your dear friend Miss Amy Trevelyne, and though she is devastated by recent events, she continues to hold up her head, her love for you quite evident.
I have met Mistress Pimm, your headmistress, and found her as formidable as any Bo'sun's Mate. She certainly gave me the once-over. I hope she did not find me wanting as a possible match for one of "her girls." She is steadfast in her belief as to your ultimate deliverance.
I have also met your bold Mr. Randall Trevelyne, brother of Miss Amy, mentioned above. Hmmm. You know, Jacky—it is interesting to note that as I travel this world, I keep encountering boys, yes, and men, too, all of whom have been left in your wake, and yet all of whom continue to feel they have some sort of claim upon your affections.
Even though I know you are foresworn to me, and the fact that I am once again in your heart is a constant comfort to me, this frequent meeting of young males who have had some congress with you—relatively innocent congress, I am sure—causes me to wonder. But then, these are idle jealousies, worthy of neither me nor my memories of you.