by Lisa Grace
Bennett glanced into her eyes and saw her agony, “The pirates. Some escaped. To save their lives they reported to the King of Spain that we captured their ship and slaughtered their crew for the treasure. There is a bounty on our heads.”
Mary searched Bennett’s face. “King George has put a bounty for the capture of the ship and the men aboard the Devonshire. Is that why the constable was onboard?”
Bennett sighed and nodded curtly, once.
Mary asked, “You have sent a letter to the King explaining the true situation?”
Bennett nodded again and said softly, “I would like you to stay with your parents.”
“No! I will not. I could not sleep or eat for fear of what may happen to you every moment of the day and night. I cannot leave you.” Mary hugged Bennett even harder. Bennett’s strong arms encircled her as Mary tilted her face up to his. “I love you, Bennett.”
Bennett answered her with a kiss.
***
“Where will we go?” she asked when they paused from their passion.
“The cove. The ship can be hidden. Other ships won’t risk the shallowness or the rocks, especially galleons. There are caves up on the cliffs which are hidden by the thick growth of trees and plants. The plateau makes a perfect shelter and defensible position. We will wait for six months, then send a party back to the docks to see where lies our fate.”
Mary nodded.
“I’d rather you stayed with your parents in the ease of their home.”
Mary shook her head, “If you care at all about what I want, it is to be with you. No matter where we are. I cannot bear to be apart from you. Six months is but a short time. The King must see the truth, and pardon you and your men.”
“That is my prayer. But if a Royal Navy ship finds us first, I will not fire on innocent men. I will let them take us, and they will hang me for treason and piracy as the bounty asks.”
A tear dropped from Mary’s eye. “I cannot leave you, no matter the consequences for me or you.”
Bennett gathered Mary tightly into his arms, and let her cry for their future which might never be. There was nothing to do but love each other while they could.
***
The Devonshire rounded the island and sailed into the cove. A waterfall high up the top of the mountain peak was half hidden in the mist from the pounding waters and clouds. A beautiful large blue bird sailed past the ship and continued high into the tree line. Palms swayed, and mysteriously shaped cedars added an aura of exoticness to the bright green landscape. The beach was the only place not covered by a carpet or forest of green. The cliffs themselves blended into the slope of the land and only those who had traipsed the topography would know they were there. All in all, it was the perfect place to hide and make home. Mary stood next to Bennett on the deck and smiled. “It is beautiful. Like a paradise.”
“We will make the most of it.”
Bennett yelled out the orders to set the anchors as they rounded the bend. The ship would be hidden in the far end of the cove. Mary could see giant turtles swimming past the ship, and even a shark. The cove was a sanctuary for various sea life. If their circumstances were not so dire, she would be thrilled by the sights contained in this lovely place. She put on a brave face for Bennett and smiled. “It is lovely here.”
The first ground crew dropped the skiffs over the side and made for land. They would clear a path then hike up with supplies and make a camp above. Half of the men would have duty on the ship, and half would be above at the camp. The shifts would start twelve hours apart, and change every twenty-four hours.
“Are you ready? If we are under attack I prefer you be on land. The ship is an easier target. Cannons cannot fire as high as the cliffs. It’s an easier position to defend. Toussant will be in charge on the ship rotating command with Lieutenant Gregory and Kerry. They have their orders of what to do in case of attack. First Officer Randall Cullen and Lt. Sedgwig will remain on land.”
“You will stay with me?” Mary smiled.
“Yes, consider it our honeymoon.” I have the men constructing a tent for us behind the cedar tree up on the bluff.” Bennett pointed to the branches giving the cedar tree a windblown look. “It is set back so nothing will be visible from the cove. The fire will be below the waterfall. The smoke should blend with the mist from the pounding of the falls. Our position while fairly open for us, will be hidden from view by the very landscape.”
“What of pirates?” Mary asked.
Bennett shook his head, “This location is far off the shipping lanes. The pirates have towns set up on two other islands with food sources, and women. No reason for them to come out here and have the hardships of starting anew. Out of all the courses we could choose, staying here provides us with unlimited food, and shelter. Mary, I am sorry it is not England.”
“I will see it soon enough. I have confidence in you.”
Bennett lightly squeezed her hand. “We will be taking the next boat over to supervise from the land side, and then we will get settled in our new home.”
Mary smiled, “I will have my paints, and charcoals, and you. There is nothing more I want.”
“Good. Because luxuries will be far and few between.”
“The weather is beautiful. I enjoy being outside. I choose to see this as another adventure. A gift in disguise.” Mary said summoning up the courage to turn her fear into excitement. “Someday we will wonder why we ever wanted to leave.”
And with this statement Mary was more right than she would ever want to be.
***
Mary climbed into the boat before it was lowered, but even with the sailors lowering it as gently as possible, it hit the water with a loud splash, tipping her off the bench and onto the floor of the boat. She picked herself up quickly so only a minimal amount of water soaked into the bottom of her dress. At times like this she dearly wished it appropriate to wear trousers. But to keep the men in good spirits, observing traditions, ladies, in dresses, was necessary. She understood sometimes routine and normalcy in unusual circumstances could keep moral up. And now with the promise of hangings, floggings, or jail on their horizons, routine and normalcy were needed more than ever. She needed to keep full confidence in her husband as the Captain in front of the men.
The hike in her day boots was longer than she would have liked. Several times she had to reach out to have Bennett steady her. The unevenness of the ground was not meant to be traversed in a dress, which she kept hitching up so she could see her feet as she walked, so as not to trip on the hem of her skirt while climbing the incline. It seemed hours later when they finally reached the level plateau. The carpenters had cut a wide path behind the shelter of the fast growing trees and bushes so as to hide their movements and camp from passing eyes on boats as they rounded the island.
The likelihood of any ship passing by was remote. But still a regular watch was set up, and the sailors were attentive knowing their very lives were at stake.
Walking the path led back to an area of caves where various men were making up beds of canvas stuffed with leaves, hammocks which could be secured in the walls with spikes, cots from branches and woven palm leaves, and other living accommodations. On the far side, hidden by the interior of the cove, was a fire pit built on a huge slab of flat rock. It was directly below the thundering falls a hundred feet up the sheer mountainside. The pool above rushed down the far side in a continuous stream down to a watery cove below. The tent that would be their home almost backed up to the end of the drop off along the backside, and the cliff wall on the other side. The front faced the fire area fifty feet away. Far enough to not be near the smoke or the heat from the flames, but near enough to the men in case of an emergency. She could see how Bennett had picked the placement of the tent so it would be the last stronghold if an enemy attacked, the safest part, and most private place in the camp. Out behind, the men had constructed a private privy for her use, again surrounded by a tent, and with an actual seat. They’d sloped the ground in such
a way any refuse would slide down the steep side of the mountain, away from discovery, and away from any smell blowing back toward the camp.
“Ladies first,” Bennett held open the flap for her to enter their home for the next six months. Inside, it was tall enough to stand. The men had moved a double bed from the ship, all made up with sheets, pillows, and comforter. Mosquito netting hung from its frame. In the center of the room was a table big enough for four, a desk with an oil lamp, and her easel which was facing the front entrance. Her trunks with her clothes, ran along the right wall. They’d brought an armoire up from the ship for her to hang her clothes, along with a mirrored front. Their wash basin, Bennett’s razor, mug and soaps, were all neatly arranged on the wall next to where they entered.
“It is like the cabin!” Mary exclaimed as she clapped her hands with delight. “It is better than I ever imagined.” Beneath her feet she realized was the big Oriental rug from the ship’s dining room. “Oh Bennett, it is perfect.”
She gave him a hug and a kiss, and he rewarded her with a hug, kiss, and a smile.
“I am glad you approve.”
“I do. It’s perfect for our first home.”
“Look.” Bennett went to the area by the bed where she noticed cloth on a rope. “If you would like privacy, you can draw this curtain so.”
“How clever. You have thought of everything.”
“Is there anything else you would require from the ship?”
“I cannot think of a thing.”
Mary’s eyes were lit with excitement, “I did see some plants that are good for eating growing along the path and in the forest. Do you mind if I take Charles with me and pick some to show the cook? I want to help, and since this land is so much like my home on the mainland, I want to do what I can.” Mary kept chattering away without waiting for a response from Bennett, “Do you think I could draw portraits for the men of their loved ones back home? If they have a drawing that is getting old, or perhaps I could do a rough sketch from a description. You and I have each other, but they have no one. It will give me something to do to occupy my time, when I am not out gathering food stuffs.”
“I think using your skill for their happiness would be very generous of you and much appreciated by the men. I will have Lieutenant Sedgwig make appointments for the men to sit for you.”
***
Charles sat with Mary at the table which had been moved and set outside under the cedar tree for her to do her sketches.
“Mrs.?”
“Yes Charles?”
“Could you do a sketch for me?”
“Of course.” Mary said. Charles moved from his seat which was a piece of a log that he had moved to use as a chair, and went to sit in the seat across from Mary.
“Would you like a landscape? Or the Tower of London or some other reminder of home?”
“No, ma’am, I would like you to draw my mother. She died when I was just a babe. I know you don’t know what she looked like, but I imagine she had my color hair, and I’d like to think she was pretty. Not too pretty, but just enough. I like to think she loved me, and had a gentle spirit. Do you think you could draw something like that? I know it would not be real, but something of her to remind me I did have a mother, maybe even one that loved me.”
Mary brought her hand up to her face to compose herself. Sometimes she forgot how young Charles was. He and the others who served the officers were just boys. She wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, but that would just embarrass him in front of the men.
“Of course I can. What a brilliant idea.”
Mary picked up her charcoal. Charles had a heart shaped face, so she said as she worked, “I imagine your mother would have had the same shape to her face as you, and beautiful dark golden hair like a princess. She would have worn it up, perhaps with some baby’s breath tied in. I see blue eyes, like yours.” She sketched into the mother’s arms an infant swaddled in a blue cloth, her arm wrapped securely around her bundle. The other arm coming up from under with the thumb brushing gently against the smiling baby’s face. She sketched a loving glaze in the mother’s eyes by widening the pupils and raising the lower lids slightly. She gave an upward tilt to the lips, yes, she was smiling at her babe. She quickly colored in the sketch, adding contrasts to suggest depth and shading in highlights to the mother's hair and the baby's skin. The day was so dry, her paints dried quickly. Finally she was satisfied enough with the results to show Charles. “Will this do?” She turned around the tiny portrait for him to inspect.
Charles just looked. Tears welled up in his eyes.
Mary held it out, “Here, this is yours.” Charles slowly reached out to take the painting. “You and your mother.”
Charles wiped at his eyes with the back of his other hand. “Thank you.” He took the tiny picture and held it gently as if it were fine china that would break at the slightest touch.
He took the picture and moved back to the stump next to her.
One of the sailors, who was missing a few teeth, sat in the chair Charles had just vacated. “I’d like a picture of me mum. Here is an old one.” The man reached in his pocket and took out a scratched mini portrait from out of the lid of a snuff box.
“Would you like it the size of your box?”
“Yes ma’am, sos it’ll fit and not get wet.”
Mary held out her hand for the box and traced its shape onto her paper.
She took the little picture and examined it then weighted it down on the table with a rock so it wouldn’t blow away with a stray breeze.
She quickly sketched the shape of the large woman, putting a prettier expression on her face, not quite as stern. “What was her favorite color dress?”
“She had a dark blue she was fond of, with a piece of white lace here.” The sailor held up his gnarled fist to his neck and moved it down, indicating the lace fell a little from the neckline.
Mary nodded, “I am familiar with the style, very pretty.”
The sailor smiled showing a toothless gap. “Me mum was a solid woman,” he said proudly. “Strong as two men. She raised us bairns to be strong. God bless me mum.”
He watched intently, leaning forward on the little table as the lines she drew on her pad formed the outline of a woman. As the table tilted slightly from his weight, he pulled back, and changed position on his chair as if he was more wobbly on dry non-shifting land than on the rocking deck of the ship.
“Me mum’s name was Mary, same as yours.” He stated proudly.
Mary looked up briefly and smiled. Dipping her brush in a light green, painting in the first layer of the skin, causing the man to frown.
She spoke explaining her process. “Skin has undertones of green, grays, and pinks. If you do not paint them first, the skin will not have any depth. Skin is translucent, see through to a point. Do not worry Mr.—”
The sailor started realizing slowly that she was pausing for his name.
“Jonah Barwick, ma’am.”
She smiled, “Mr. Barwick. She will look lovely when I am done with her.”
When Mary cut out and handed the finished painting to the man, he looked at it admiringly, “I don’t know how you did it, even though I watched. Your painting is a miracle, and to think ye did it for me, just ta be nice.” He shook his head, I owe you a debt, someday Miss, I’ll do something for you. I swear by God, I will.”
Mary smiled at him, “You do now. You keep my husband safe, and that is a debt I can never repay to you.”
He got up smiling, looking at the painting he had now carefully pressed into the top of his round snuff tin. He whistled as he left and went back to his work.
***
“It is such a small thing,” Mary said as she climbed under the covers that evening.
“Excuse me?” Bennett said as he washed up at the basin.
“The paintings I have been doing for the men. It is half to keep me busy and my mind off our predicament, but the pictures make them so happy.”
“Of course
. Away from loved ones. Trips home are rare enough for a man at sea. To have a fine painting of the quality you do, would cost these men too dearly back home. They could not afford the work.”
Mary waved her hand dismissing the compliment. “Charles wanted one of his mother. He's an orphan and has no memory of who she was.”
“So what did you do?” Bennett asked as he dried off on a towel. He came over to the bed.
“I imagined what she would look like and drew her holding him as a babe. It was the only thing I could think to do.”
He continued to undress as he talked, “You have given them a piece of their loved ones. Home. We hold onto our memories, but there is always the fear we will forget what our loved ones look like. To face fear and death every day a soldier needs reminding of what he is fighting for, and what he is willing to die for.”
Bennett slid into bed next to Mary. “You've given them courage to face what may come. That is not a small thing.”
Mary stroked and lightly kissed him on the shoulder. “What is on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“We will find and bleed the trees for sap and make pitch. It is also important to stockpile wood in one of the caves to keep it dry for burning. Randall and I will plan attack and defense plans. We will have an inspection of necessary repairs that can be done to the ship while we are here. We also need to send our best swimmers in daily to scrape the hull of barnacles and the worms that destroy the wood.” Bennett scratched his chin and continued, “I am thinking of instituting swimming and diving lessons for the men that cannot swim. It may be necessary for their survival if our ship is fired upon while near an island.” He reached over and took Mary in his arms where she rested her head on his chest. “At sea you go down with the ship, but here, there is a chance of survival so it could be a good skill to develop.”
“Bennett? This is all very interesting, but you do realize we are alone…” Mary stroked her hand across his chest.
Bennett got up, turned down the lamp, returned to bed and gave his full attention to pleasing his wife.