by Tessa Harris
In his hand Thomas held a letter that had been delivered a few minutes before. It was from Paris, from Mr. Franklin. The American ambassador to France had confirmed his theory that the sulfurous cloud was, indeed, made up of gas and ash from a volcanic eruption. The volcano was, he believed, in Iceland.
The grass on the lawn in front of them was brown and lifeless. Only the weeds seemed to be growing. Weeds will always grow, thought Thomas. And yet it was the first time in weeks that they were able to breathe freely of the untainted country air. Somewhere in the wood beyond a skylark sang; just one, but to anyone who heard it, its song was as shrill and as sweet and as perfect as any skylark’s had ever been.
Richard was wheeling a hoop. He was chasing it, like a puppy chases its tail, as it spun ’round and ’round. He seemed fully recovered from his illness and from his traumas of the last few weeks. Lydia reached for Thomas’s hand as they watched the boy at play.
“This is a day I thought I might never see,” she said softly, her voice full with emotion.
Thomas nodded. “It is a wonderful sight.”
“And you think he might have the use of his arm one day?”
“The exercises I showed him will strengthen it.” He turned and looked down on her, small as a bird, yet beaming with a mother’s pride.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Thomas was puzzled. “For what?”
“For not making me choose between you and Richard.”
He nodded and smiled. “A wise man knows better than to force a mother to choose between him and her child.”
There was another silence. They had not spoken about Sir Montagu or his plans to keep them apart. All charges against Thomas had been dropped, and Sir Henry, although he had recovered from his seizure, had withdrawn any intentions he once had regarding marriage to Lydia. Yet a cloud still hung over them. It may not have contained sulfur dioxide but it was poisonous nonetheless. As long as the court order was in place they could never be married. And yet there was hope.
Thomas brandished Mr. Franklin’s letter once more. The final paragraph contained more news. “A treaty has been signed.”
Lydia turned. “Between our two countries?”
The young doctor nodded, his face breaking into a smile.
“So you are no longer an enemy?”
Thomas put his arm around her. “Our two nations are at peace.”
“Then does that mean . . . ?” She was daring to hope the wardship would be annulled.
Thomas shook his head. “No, the order remains, but we do have grounds to fight it in court.”
Lydia looked triumphant. “So that is what we shall do. We shall engage a lawyer . . .”
Thomas butted in. “A trustworthy lawyer.”
“Yes.” She let out a little laugh, acknowledging her mistakes of the past. “A trustworthy lawyer, who will fight our case.” She paused. “How long will it take?”
Thomas knew the wheels of English justice turned so very slowly. “Six months. A year.” He thought, in all probability, it could well be two or three.
Lydia stared ahead. “What shall we do in the meantime?” she asked gently.
Thomas sighed. “I shall return to my work.”
“So you will go back to London?”
“Yes.” The doctor took a deep breath. “Sir Joseph Banks has asked me to catalogue specimens, medicinal plants, that sort of thing, from an expedition to the West Indies.”
She gazed out over the gardens once more and nodded. Richard was bobbing up and down behind the low hedge in the rose garden. “It is a great honor for you.”
Thomas drew her closer. “ ’Twill keep me busy,” he told her. “And it will give you more time to spend with Richard on your own.”
She nodded and clasped one of his hands. “ ’Tis true I have to make up for six long years without him.”
His heart fluttered when he heard she could accept his temporary absence in such a positive light. “And then I shall return and we will be together again,” he told her.
“Even though we cannot be man and wife?”
“Maybe not as man and wife for now,” he said, glancing over at Richard, who was running toward them. “But perhaps as a family.”
Panting, but smiling, the child pulled himself up just short of his mother and held out a rose. It was in bud. Lydia took it and thanked her son. Holding it up to her nose she sniffed its perfume. The little boy turned tail and ran once more to his hoop. It was only after he was back on the lawn again that Thomas realized. Richard had given his mother the bloom with his left hand.
Postscript
Before the year was out the normal death rate in Britain is estimated to have risen by a staggering 16.7 percent, the equivalent to approximately 30,000 extra deaths. Many of these were apparently due to respiratory failure and related conditions. The “Great Fogg,” as it was known, was the greatest natural disaster to hit the country in modern times. It took several months, however, before the phenomenon was attributed to continuous eruptions from the Laki fissure in Iceland. But there was worse to come. The remaining volcanic gas and ash in the atmosphere diverted the sun’s rays and led to the coldest winter for centuries. Many more were to suffer in the coming months.
Glossary
Chapter 1
bury man: Old English term for a gravedigger.
barque: A sailing ship with three or more masts.
mysterium: Latin word for mystery that is often used in the phrase “mysterium tremendeum,” or overwhelming mystery.
great fog: In 1783 the Hampshire naturalist Gilbert White described it thus: “The peculiar haze or smoky fog that prevailed in this island and even beyond its limits was a most extraordinary appearance, unlike anything known within the memory of man.”
bloodred sun: A contemporary account states that at noon the sun was “as blank as a clouded moon, but lurid and blood-colored at rising and setting.” The poet William Cowper famously wrote at the time: “He sets with the face of a red-hot salamander, and rises (as I learn from report), with the same complexion.”
balls of fire: Contemporary records show there was an unusually high number of recorded sightings of meteors between 1783 and 1784, along with several other natural disasters, leading the period to be dubbed the “annus mirabilis,” or year of awe.
Chapter 2
wolds: A range of hills in the county of Lincolnshire that run roughly parallel with the North Sea coast.
stooks: A number of sheaves set upright in a field to dry with their heads together.
small beer: Beer mixed with water.
fret: A sea mist, especially common to England’s east coast.
flies: The Hampshire naturalist Gilbert White remarked that: “. . . the flies swarmed so in the lanes and hedges that they rendered the horses half frantic, and riding irksome.”
lower pay: Laborers were often hired at harvest and were paid by the day or week.
dense fog: A visitor to Lincoln, the county town of Lincolnshire, reported to the Gentleman’s Magazine in July 1783: “A thick hot vapour had for several days before filled up the valley, so that both the Sun and the Moon appeared like heated brick-bars.”
Chapter 3
Delaware Indians: Also known as the Lenape, the tribe originally lived along the Delaware River in New Jersey.
bat: Some Indian tribes of the northwestern United States regard the bat as a symbol of diligence, while in the Great Plains, the animal is said to impart wisdom.
John Hunter : A renowned anatomist who employed questionable methods to obtain corpses for dissection.
milk: Hampshire naturalist Gilbert White wrote that “the heat was so intense that butchers’ meat could hardly be eaten on the day after it was killed.”
Canada geese: According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the term “Canada Goose” was first used in 1772.
Smithfield: The location of a London livestock market dating back to the tenth century. In 1726 Daniel Defoe described it as
“without question, one of the greatest in the world.”
Charles Byrne: The man known as “the Irish Giant” is said to have wished to be buried at sea when he died to avoid being dissected.
Chapter 4
Celsianas: A variety of rose dating back to the late eighteenth century.
saltpeter: Also known as potassium nitrate, saltpeter has been used to cure and preserve meat for more than two thousand years.
Combe Gibbet: Erected in 1676, a replica gibbet remains on the same spot. The original was erected to hang George Bromham, a married farm laborer from Combe, and Dorothy Newman, a widow of Inkpen. The pair was found guilty of the murder of George Bromham’s wife Martha and their son Robert.
Hungerford Workhouse: In 1782 Edward Sheppard, the owner of an inn called The Three Tuns, let the premises in Charnham Street for use as a workhouse.
cooper: A craftsman who makes barrels.
Chapter 5
sweathouses: Every Delaware Indian settlement would have a steam house where sickness could be “sweated out.”
Williamsburg storm: Between September 7 and 8, 1769, one of the worst storms of the eighteenth century devastated the Chesapeake Bay area, leaving Williamsburg almost flattened.
woe water: According to a Chilterns tradition, certain bournes, or streams, only flow at times of tragedy or disaster and are called woe waters. One such recorded instance was during 1665 at the time of the Great Plague.
“A good example is the best sermon.” The quote appears in the 1747 issue of Benjamin Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Almanack.
Chapter 6
The Three Tuns: A tun was a barrel.
pharo: The English alternate spelling of faro, a popular card game that originated in France.
great golden ball: The famous landmark was erected on top of the tower of the church of St. Lawrence, West Wycombe, by Sir Francis Dashwood. It is hollow and can seat up to eight people. The Hellfire Club may have met inside. Mirrors may have been used to signal to another nearby tower.
Church of St. Lawrence: Built on an Iron Age fort, the fourteenth-century church was completely remodeled by Sir Francis Dashwood, who added a new tower.
West Wycombe Park: The house, in Buckinghamshire, is one of the finest examples of Italianate architecture in England. Although the structure is owned by the National Trust, it remains the home of the Dashwood family today.
Sir Francis Dashwood: A notorious libertine and bon vivant, he created the infamous Hellfire Club, which sometimes met in the Hellfire Caves.
Bedford Coffee House: A Covent Garden coffeehouse, popular with actors and literary figures.
Hellfire Caves: A series of hand-carved tunnels created by Sir Francis Dashwood, near West Wycombe Park, from the original prehistoric caves. They lie three hundred feet underground and are open to the public.
Boston: On December 16, 1773, a group of colonists threw a large quantity of tea into Boston Harbor to protest against the fact that it was taxed by the British Parliament and not by their own elected representatives. Only much later did the incident come to be labeled the “Boston Tea Party.”
Benjamin Franklin: The American polymath was a friend of Sir Francis Dashwood’s and a frequent visitor to West Wycombe. After a trip to the Hellfire Caves he wrote: “The exquisite sense of classical design, charmingly reproduced . . . whimsical and puzzling as it may be in its imagery, is as evident below the earth as above it.”
Sir John Dashwood-King: The half-brother of the infamous Sir Francis Dashwood, he inherited the title and estates on Francis’s death in 1781. He was a member of the Hellfire Club, which his brother had founded.
Temple of Daphne: Designed around 1745, the folly still provides a meeting and resting place in the grounds of West Wycombe Park.
The Black Bear: There was also a White Bear Inn in Hungerford. The word “black” was dropped during the nineteenth century and the Bear remains a hotel in the town today.
Good King William: In 1688 the Protestant Prince William of Orange landed at the head of an army in Devon and met the Commissioners appointed by James II at the Black Bear. He went on to become King of Great Britain.
Chapter 8
Downs: The Berkshire Downs run east-west, with their scarp slope facing north into the Vale of the White Horse and their dip slope bounded by the course of the River Kennet. Geologically they are continuous with the Marlborough Downs.
Inns of Court: Buildings or precincts where barristers traditionally lodged, trained and carried on their profession.
Chapter 9
wet nursing: Women, especially those had given birth to an illegitimate child, sometimes had to give their baby up, temporarily or permanently, to a wet nurse. In other households it was deemed acceptable to place a baby with a wet nurse until it was weaned.
foundling token: An item pinned to a baby’s clothing for identification purposes when a mother brought her child to London’s Foundling Hospital, established in 1739. It is now known as The Foundling Museum.
Chapter 10
sulfur: It was not until 1777 that sulfur was found to be an element and not a compound.
powdery frost: The Hampshire naturalist Gilbert White reported twenty-eight days of continuous frost.
Spanish liquorice and salt of tartar: According to Wesley’s Primitive Physick this is a remedy for an asthmatic cough.
Chapter 11
magnifying glass: The origin of the magnifying glass is uncertain, but they were certainly widely in use by the fifteenth century.
sugar: Households bought their white sugar in tall, conical loaves, from which pieces were broken off with special iron sugar-cutters.
great pillar of carbon: A dramatic reaction is caused when sulfuric acid is added to sugar to produce carbon.
Chapter 13
baccarat: A card game enjoyed by gamblers and similar to pharo.
curry: The first documented recipe for “currey” was published in Art of Cookery by Hannah Glasse in 1747. This recipe is reflective of a typical Indian curry.
Chapter 14
famine: The Irish Famine of 1740–1741 should not be confused with what became known as the Great Famine of 1845–1852.
Rightboys, the Hearts of Oak, and the Steelboys: Peasant secret societies were formed in eighteenth-century Ireland to oppose brutal landlords.
Chapter 15
Seymour Street: Built around 1769 as London grew to the west.
Oxford Chapel: Now known as St. Peter’s, the chapel was built in 1722.
Whitehall Stairs: A public landing place, as opposed to the Privy Stairs a little farther up river, where ferrymen would ply their trade. At this time there were only two bridges across the Thames, London and Westminster.
Tyburn: The place for public executions until 1783, after which time Newgate Prison was used.
Chapter 16
listening tube: The stethoscope was the recognized invention of a Frenchman, Dr. René Laennec, in 1816.
Chapter 17
St. Giles: The area in London most associated with an Irish population during the eighteenth century. It was also one of the most lawless areas of the city.