by Val Wood
She glanced down at the man sitting almost at her feet and recognized the seaman with the eyepatch who had conducted Toby’s burial and warned her of the dangers in the town when he had rowed her to shore from the Breeze.
Parson White shook his head despondently. ‘Aye. I’m no good for anything. I’m a poor parson and an even poorer smuggler.’
Annie wiped away a tear and glanced at the soldier who was staring impassively at her. Sergeant Collins! Guarding Matt! For a moment, wild improbabilities raced through her mind. She would get him to turn his back while she spirited Matt away.
Then she remembered the kind of man that Sergeant Collins was. If he could give up Lily, whom she was sure he loved, because of his honourable regard for the wife he never saw, then he wouldn’t risk his life or career for a pressed man.
She looked around her. Besides, there were too many other soldiers and navy men around. They wouldn’t hesitate to fire their muskets or pistols if they saw a man escaping.
‘I know this soldier,’ she said simply. ‘He helped me once when Toby was killed.’
Matt’s eyes flashed as he remembered. ‘One of your men was it, who killed him?’
Sergeant Collins nodded. ‘Aye. A lad of sixteen drafted into the army from gaol where he’d been sent for stealing bread. He hardly knew one end of a musket from the other. He fired because he was frightened.’ His voice was matter-of-fact. ‘Perhaps you don’t know about fear, captain. But young soldiers do. They know what it’s like when their bowels turn to water and their legs tremble beneath them. But he was punished for disobeying orders and letting the smugglers get away. He’d hardly any skin left on his back by the time they’d finished.’
‘But why was he so afraid? We wouldn’t have hurt him. Not Toby or me.’ Annie was aghast that the young soldier should have suffered.
‘It’s a game you’ve been playing, Mrs Hope.’ Sergeant Collins drew closer and addressed them quietly. ‘Both of ye, and your dead brother, sir. It’s just been sport to ye, avoiding the law, never getting caught. But for some it’s more than that. I’ve seen my men shot at and beaten to a pulp by these law breakers. We’ve sat all night on a cliff top in the pouring rain because no-one, not a house nor hostelry would give us a bed for the night in case they got their windows smashed by their own kind the next morning. Just think about it next time you’re drinking run brandy or sipping duty-free tea; somebody might be paying for it with his life.’
He moved away from them to the edge of the crowd and they remained silent. Then Matt said quietly. ‘It’s true, all he says. I know that some of the men I meet are nothing more than ruffians; but then there are others who are trying to keep body and soul together by selling these run goods.’
He gathered her towards him again. ‘But let’s not talk of such things. Where I’m going there’ll be no brandy, no tobacco, no silk. Not in gaol or on the high seas.’ He squeezed her tight. ‘How can I bear to lose you, Annie, when I’ve only just found you again. I’ve searched and searched for you these last years. I’ve had people looking for you and no-one knew where you’d gone.’
He put his head against hers. ‘There were times when I thought you were dead.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you wouldn’t want me, not when I had a babby. I thought I’d be an embarrassment to you. I went to York. I work for a linen draper. We have a room above the shop, Henry and me.’
‘Henry?’ he asked, his brow creasing.
She nodded. ‘I gave him the name of the first man who was ever kind to me – Henry Trott – and your name: Matthias – his father’s name.’
‘Annie! You know don’t you, that I’ll have to stay with the navy? They need men with my background.’ He spoke softly and calmly. ‘The magistrate won’t let me rot in gaol when I can be usefully employed at sea. The sergeant was right when he said it was a game we were playing. Well the game is over. God knows I’ve no grudge against the French, at heart I’m a farmer, a landsman, but I’m in up to my neck now, and I’ll have to go.’
Her face crumpled with dismay. She might never see him again. Henry might lose the father he had never known.
‘Will you marry me, Annie? Will you give our son my name?’
She put her head against his chest and wept. ‘How can I marry you? I’m nobody. Just a woman from the gutter who has pulled herself out. That’s why I ran away. How can I marry a man like thee?’
He held her at arm’s length and contemplated her. ‘A woman from the gutter, a smuggler, a hawker, a Dutch widow, a draper, a mother. You have been all of these things, Annie; why can you not be a wife?’
He grinned. ‘A wife of a common seaman who’s just been pressed into the King’s navy!’
‘I have to tell you something first. You might not want to marry me then.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I ran away from Hull because I’d killed a man.’
He was silent for a moment and she felt a dreadful despair. He would reject her now. He was bound to.
‘He must have deserved it, Annie,’ he said softly and stroked her cheek. ‘You must have had a compelling reason. I want you for my wife, no matter what you have done.’
She searched for a piece of linen to wipe her nose and streaming eyes, but couldn’t find one and so put her arm up to her face and wiped it with her frilled sleeve.
Matt put his head back and laughed though his voice broke with emotion. ‘Oh, Annie. How wonderful you are. Don’t ever change.’
‘Begging your pardon, captain.’ Parson White stood by their side. ‘With my one bloodshot eye, I spy Roxton at the far end of the dock. If you were planning anything then it had better be soon.’
‘Planning anything? What do you mean, man? Have you got a pistol hidden beneath your hat and intend that I shoot the varmint?’
‘No sir, you know as well as anybody what a law-abiding fellow I am. No, what I was meaning sir, for I couldn’t help overhearing, was if you and the good lady were thinking of getting wed, then we’d better be sharp about it.’
‘How can we wed,’ Annie asked, her face pink and blotchy from crying. ‘We’ve had no banns read, no licence, and Roxton wouldn’t let us go to church, even though St Mary’s is just a step away.’
‘A step too far,’ Matt mused. ‘He wouldn’t allow it, nor would the navy.’
Parson White gave a huge sigh and tutted. Matt stared at him. ‘What are you suggesting—? You’re not suggesting—? You are suggesting that you should marry us?’
‘I was ordained to conduct marriages as well as burials,’ he boomed in a pontifical manner. ‘And though the church might have thrown me out, God knows where my heart is; and if you want me to bless the pair of you in His presence then I can do it here, as well as any other parson in a pulpit. With or without a magistrates licence,’ he added.
‘Will you be happy with that, Annie?’ Matt gazed seriously at her. ‘It might not be strictly legal, but it’s the best I can offer you until I return.’
They both knew that the words he uttered were only of hope. There was every possibility that he wouldn’t return.
She nodded, too overcome to speak, then she drew Henry, who had been contemplating both Matt and Parson White, towards them. ‘Henry.’ She swallowed and wiped her fingers across her eyes. ‘Henry. This is your father.’
The little boy raised his eyes and solomnly contemplated Matt and then smiled, his cheeks dimpling. Matt bent down and kissed him on both cheeks and Henry put his arms about his neck and hugged him.
‘I knew he was mine, the minute I saw him,’ Matt spoke in a choked voice. ‘Look at his smile, he’s got the same gap as both Toby and me.’
Annie patted the boy’s cheek and said huskily. ‘His milk teeth, Matt, all children have it.’
‘No matter, you’ll see when he’s grown—.’ He couldn’t finish the sentence and Annie held them both close, Matt and their son.
‘Now then, cap’n, – ma’am. We’d better get started if you’ve decided.’ Parson
White’s voice broke in. ‘There’s not much time.’
‘I have nothing to give you, Annie! No token for you to remember me by.’
‘I have your son,’ she whispered.
He nodded, his eyes loving. ‘Wait.’ He put his hand to his ear, and took from it the gold ring which pierced it. ‘I have this, take it and wear it.’
She took the small gold ring and slipped it on her little finger; her hands were unadorned, she had never before had a ring. The only jewellery she possessed were the pearls which Matt had given her and which she always wore.
They stood side by side with Henry between them as Parson White conducted the unorthodox ceremony. The parson took off his hat and putting his hands together and closing his one eye, raised his head to the heavens.
Some of the pressed men who had been listening and watching with some interest, got to their feet when they realized that they were to be witnesses to a ceremony. They dusted themselves down or straightened their neckchiefs and pulled down the sleeves of their coats, and took off their caps and hats.
‘Dearly Beloved. We are gathered here today in the presence of the Almighty, who deems Himself to be in all places at all times wherever two or three are gathered in his name, to bear witness to the marriage of Captain Matthias Linton and Mrs Annie Hope.’
He opened his eye and raised an eyebrow at Annie.
She bit her lip. This was no place for lies and subterfuge. If God was listening, He would know. She leaned forward and whispered. ‘Swinburn. Annie Swinburn.’
Matt shook his head in amused admonishment, but she gave no answering smile. What if any of the men here remembered the name?
Parson White continued, ‘And the woman,’ he lowered his voice so that only Matt and Annie heard, ‘Annie Swinburn, better known as Hope.’
From the corner of her eye Annie could see Roxton approaching, Sergeant Collins had seen him too and stealthily moved away from the ceremony in the direction of the customs official.
Parson White had seen her glance away and he too looked over his shoulder, and proceeded in a faster tone.
‘If there is anyone here who would dare to object or give cause to say why these two people should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony in sight of God, then let him speak now.’
He glared dissuasively around, but there was not a sound from the men. Sergeant Collins was still in conversation with Roxton and Annie saw him put a restraining hand on his arm.
‘Then I now pronounce you man and wife.’
A cheer went up from the men and from the ranks of the army and navy who had joined the crowd, and hats flew into the air.
‘Now for a hymn,’ one of the men shouted. ‘Let’s have a bit of music to give them a good send off.’
33
As the men sang lustily and Matt held her close, Roxton threw off Sergeant Collins’ hindering hand and strode towards them. The naval officer who had confronted him the previous evening, and had been watching the marriage ceremony also hurried forward.
‘What news Mr Roxton?’ he called cheerily before he could reach the wedding party. ‘Are you to have him after all, or shall the King keep him?’
Roxton’s face was livid. He shook an angry fist. ‘I’ve waited for years to catch that felon! He deserves to go to gaol!’
‘Oh, come now, Roxton.’ The lieutenant admonished him. ‘You know as well as I do, that life on board one of His Majesty’s ships is as fitting a gaol as those on land, especially for a pressed man. There’ll be no luxuries on board for him.’
‘I wanted the satisfaction of taking him to the courthouse myself and hearing the door of the gaol clang behind him.’ Roxton’s voice was hostile and resentful.
The officer laughed. ‘Well, you can wave goodbye from the quayside for we can be off now, and not a half hour too soon for we’ll miss the tide if we delay any longer.’ He turned to another officer. ‘Muster the men, and stand by. Tell the army we are ready to sail.’
The quayside bustled with activity as naval men and soldiers obeyed the commands.
‘I didn’t realize that the soldiers were going too,’ Annie said. ‘I wondered why there were so many of them here.’
‘Most of them won’t come back,’ Matt answered grimly. ‘It’s hard enough being a sailor, far worse to be a soldier.’
He looked down at her and wound a strand of fair hair which had escaped from the coil at the back of her neck, around his finger. ‘You’re a real lady, Annie. The only one I could have wished for to be the mother of my son. Go now, and don’t look back. God willing I’ll come back to you.’
She clung to him not wanting this moment to end; he kissed her and pushed her away. ‘Go,’ he said. ‘Don’t make it any harder for me to bear.’
She kissed him once more and brought Henry near that he also might kiss his father. Holding back her tears she shook hands with Parson White and some of the other men who were standing near, their faces wracked with emotion. Then she turned again to kiss Matt a final goodbye.
‘Don’t look back,’ he whispered. ‘Just go.’
She turned and holding tight to Henry’s hand, walked away.
‘Mrs Hope!’
Instantly at the sound of her name, she turned around. Matt was smiling at her, his eyes creased with pain.
‘Mrs Linton!’ she exclaimed through her tears. ‘My name is Annie Linton.’
‘I love you, Mrs Linton.’
Before she could reply, Henry tore out of her hand and ran back towards Matt. ‘If you’re my father now, do I have a grandfayther like James?’
Matt gave a small exclamation, something between a gasp and a sob, and crouched down to be on the same level as the child. ‘Indeed you do, young Henry.’ He kissed the boy and sent him back to his mother.
‘Annie!’ He called urgently. ‘Take him to my father.’ He made to step towards her but the impeding hand of a navy man stopped him.
‘Your father!’ How could she? How could she take Henry to the man who had rejected his own sons. How could she confess that the poor hawker and the Dutch widow and the wife of his eldest son, were one and the same?
‘Take him,’ he called as he was pushed into line ready to embark the ship flying the royal ensign. ‘He likes you. Take him and tell him, and wait for me there. Take him to his grandfather – Henry Linton!’
She walked slowly back towards the Cross Keys, holding Henry tightly by the hand. She felt the sun warm on her face and remembered once before when she had walked from the same quayside on such a day as this, when she had been told that her husband, Alan Swinburn, had been killed on board the whaler The Polar Star. Then, though she had cried and wailed, she had felt no emotion for the dead man, no sorrow, only terror that she would have to fend for her children and herself without a man to support them.
But now, she knew that she could support herself and Henry. She had become self-reliant, had grown in stature and had a better opinion of herself than she once had. But, she thought sadly, it means nothing. I want only Matt. I can’t bear to think that I might never hold him in my arms again, never hear his laugh or kiss his lips. I’ve been without him these long years and now that I’ve found him again, the pain is harder to bear than ever.
Henry tugged her hand. ‘Mamma?’
She smiled a weak smile. But I have his son. I’ll watch him grow in his likeness. While I have him, I have Matt.
‘Mamma.’ Henry’s voice was persistent and he wrinkled his small nose in distaste. ‘What’s that smell?’
She hadn’t noticed. It was inherent in the town and so familiar that she hadn’t realized its presence. The smell of boiling blubber which brought industry to the town.
‘It’s blubber,’ she said, ‘from the whale. It’s what keeps this town alive and prosperous.’
They passed a group of women and children. They were neither prosperous nor hardly alive she thought, looking at their pinched faces and tattered clothing. She kept her head down so that her hat shielded her face, in fear th
at any one of them might recognize her, and in humility that she had escaped from the poverty and servitude which held them down.
How grateful I should be, she thought. For even though Matt is bound to a ship which might take him away for ever, I have the knowledge of his love; I have his son, I have work and a roof over our heads. What more could I ask?
What more? Yet, still something more.
She called to the landlord as she waited for the hired mount to be saddled. ‘Do you know of a family by the name of Foster?’
He would know. He knew everyone in this town and Will Foster was well known. Everyone knew Will and had been shocked at his injuries sustained on the same voyage that had killed Alan.
Caution veiled his face. ‘Foster?’ He pursed his lips. ‘Can’t think of any travellers of that name.’
‘No, no, not visitors. They live in the town, or they did.’
He shook his head. ‘Folks’ is moving out of’town; gentry and trade. Grand houses are being built out Hessle and Ferriby way.’
He was evading her questions. If I should speak as I used to and say, ‘Come on Jack, tha can tell me. Where have ‘Fosters and my bairns gone?’ Then he would tell me, but not now; not in case this fine lady means them mischief.
They looked after their own, the people of Hull, and she realized now why there had been no pounding of the feet of the law chasing her when Francis Morton had died. If questions had been asked about her, a wall of impenetrable silence would have descended, impossible to scale.
But now she had crossed to the other side. The landlord would know that she wasn’t gentry, he might even find it difficult to know where to place her, but all the more reason for the hedging of answers. Until he knew that she meant the Fosters’ no harm, he would give her no satisfactory answer.
The groom, in a canvas smock covering his coat and breeches, came to tell her that the mount was groomed and ready. She paid the landlord and thanked him for his hospitality. ‘I shall come back, one day,’ she said. ‘Perhaps then you might be able to tell me of the Fosters. It’s important to me.’