‘What about my wife?’
‘I could break the news if you’d prefer. Or perhaps Mrs Derrington might be asked to step in. But naturally it would be better coming from yourself.’
‘She can’t know, Mangan. Not for the moment.’
‘Merridith, she might very well be carrying this herself. She – ’
‘We’re not intimate,’ he quietly interrupted. ‘Not for years now.’
A shadowed moon slid out from behind a vast cloud.
‘Nothing?’
He shook his head. ‘Our marriage is entirely celibate. I wanted to protect her. After I became infected before.’
‘Still.’ The surgeon sighed. ‘Latency can last from a month to a decade. Much longer, occasionally. She’s in very real danger. As is any other woman with whom you have been in familiar contact. Is there such a woman, Merridith? I beg you to be frank.’
The doctor took the silence as permission to continue.
‘There is a young woman among us on this ship whom you cannot mention without averting your eyes. We noticed it quite early, Mrs Derrington and I. And I have noticed that this young woman appears never to speak to you. Rather unusual for a servant and her master.’
‘What of it?’
‘You’ve had physical intercourse? Please speak frankly.’
‘No.’
‘But contact?’
‘There was – a time when I used go to her quarters at night.’
‘What occurred when you went there? I must know all.’
‘If you really must – she allowed me to watch as she prepared for bed.’
‘To undress?’
‘How the deuce else would she prepare for bed?’
‘Did you touch her body, Merridith? Did she touch yours?’
He looked at the face of his inquisitor, but no emotion was there. Suddenly he thought of the Roman Catholic confessional. Wasn’t this how they were questioned in that coffin-like little box? Always he had found it a strange idea, to tell your failings and lusts to another man, the most secret desires of your heart and body. Now he could see in it a kind of liberation. But no godliness. Quite the contrary.
‘I have touched her sometimes. Not in the way you mean.’
‘Not in the private sense?’
‘I have touched her body. She has not touched mine.’
‘You have not had intimate congress with the girl?’
‘I have answered you already.’
‘Never? Truly? You give me your word?’
He was crying again: very quietly and fearfully. The surgeon offered him a handkerchief but he shook his head and composed himself.
‘I speak as your friend, Merridith; not your judge.’
‘When we were younger we used to go walking about in the countryside together. At home, I mean. In Galway. I expect there were one or two occasions when we acted unwisely.’
‘You mean you had intercourse?’
‘No.’
‘What do you mean, then? Familiarities and so forth?’
‘For Christ’s sake, Mangan. Were you never a young person in love?’
Virgo singularis, inter omnes mites,
nos culpis solutos, mites fac et castos.
‘Do you love her still?’
‘I have very strong feelings. The feelings I have always had. I have not been in a position to live by those feelings.’
‘That is not what I mean, as I think you must know. I speak of love in the physical sense.’
‘Nothing of the nature to which you allude has happened in over fifteen years.’
‘And more recently? It’s been a matter of caresses and so forth?’
‘Yes.’
‘Exploration?’
‘If you must.’
‘Infiltration?’
‘No.’
‘There’s no question of manipulation of the self whilst in her company or anything of that nature? No emission of fluids?’
‘Mangan, can’t you leave it? What in Hell do you think I am?’
The surgeon spoke mildly but there was ice in his voice. ‘What I think you are is a man in a situation of power. As all men are, in relation to women.’
Vitam praesta puram, iter para tuum.
‘Nothing has occurred which might put her in danger.’
‘You must never approach her in that way again. Do you understand?’
‘There is very little chance of that, I can assure you.’
‘May one ask how? I must insist on your guarantee. Otherwise it is my duty to have the girl removed from your quarters immediately.’
‘Mangan, I beg you –’
‘I will do my duty and that is an end to it. You must give me reason to think the girl is safe from your advances or I shall go to the Captain and have him allocate her a new cabin at once.’
‘Please don’t do that. I implore you, Mangan.’
‘Then speak, Merridith; for pity’s sake.’
He nodded. Turned slowly. Looked out at the ocean. The blackdark space where the waves must be. ‘There is a fact about my life which I have recently come to realise. A matter of enormous difficulty and shame. I have never discussed it with anyone before.’
‘Then you must now.’
‘I assume our conversation is confidential.’
‘Naturally.’
He hung his head suddenly as though he might vomit. Wind caught his hair and ripped at his clothes.
‘Merridith, I beg you to unburden yourself of whatever it is you want to tell me.’
Mea maxima culpa et maxima culpa.
‘I am not the first member of my family to become attached in the way I mentioned previously. My parents’ marriage was made unhappy by an infidelity of my father’s at one point. They separated for some years when I was quite a young child.’
‘What does that have to do with this matter?’
‘My father’s attachment was with a tenant woman on our estate. I discovered its full nature the night I closed up our house in Galway. Certain personal papers came to light. There was a child of the liaison. A daughter.’
‘And?’
‘She was passed off as a member of the woman’s own family. I do not believe her husband ever knew. My late mother did not know either, I believe.’
‘Merridith – I’m sorry; I’m just not following your line.’
‘No. I didn’t myself for too long a time. But the mother was my nanny. A lady called Margaret Duane.’
Sit laus Deo Patri, summo Christo decus,
Spiritui Sancto, tribus honor unus.
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE DOCTOR
MORE FROM THE PENULTIMATE DAY OF THE VOYAGE: A VERBATIM SELECTION FROM THE CASE - NOTES OF SURGEON WILLIAM JAMES MANGAN, M.D., R.C.S.I.
Dies Iovis ii Dec. xlvii
This morning and p.m., assisted by Mrs Derrington, attended a great number (67) of steerage passengers. Many reporting with scrofula, colds, diarrhoea, feverishness, coughs, severe nausea, poor digestion and stomach cramps; head lice, body lice, scurvy, rickets, chilblains, infections of eye, ear, throat, nose and chest, and a number of other minor ailments.
One man with very severe case of dysenteric colitis. Saw him before and gave bicarbonate of potash but now suffers deep-seated pain in epigastrium. Spirit of terebinthinate to belly with citrate of ammonia and ½ dram of morphia. Very little chance. He will certainly die.
One man with inflamed carbuncle on dorsal penis. Removed it with knife. One woman of twenty-five close to labour. Twins. Husband extremely weak. Has been giving her his entire rations. Told him she needed a father for her children more than she did a few oz of biscuit. Will try to get some milk. Told him if he couldn’t I would bring some myself from breakfast tomorrow. Man (about 20) with very bad palsy of the face. Spoke no English. Child (3 yrs) with suspected broken tibia. Gangrenous. V. distressed girl (14 yrs) told Mrs Derrington she feared she was dying. In fact she had begun to menstruate but was entirely ignorant of the matter, her mother having
died two years ago. Significant number (about twenty-five, several infants among them) in most urgent need of hospitalisation. Dysentery widespread. Bowel-colic also. Sloughing sores in throat. Soft and ulcerated gums. Everyone I saw showing symptoms of gross malnutrition and badly underweight, some dangerously so. Diet of biscuit and water completely inadequate. Very poor supply of clean blankets. No safe, clean place to store or cook whatever food they have taken on themselves. No safe, clean place for personal cleanliness and necessary matters. No privacy whatsoever, a matter of obvious distress particularly to the women. Steerage cabin very dark and devoid of clean air. Some of the unfortunate men quite given over to drinking. No proper facilities to wash clothes.
Later made the ‘routine call’ to First-Class which I had insisted Lord K. agree to. Examined the Honble. Robert and Right Honble. Jonathan Merridith of Kingscourt (Robt 6yrs & 10 mths, Jthn 8yrs). Teeth, eyes, throat normal. Hair clean. J. had often been attended for ‘unbearable itching of the skin’ by house nurse at Winchester College Hampshire where he previously schooled. (Balming unguent prescribed.) Once chipped collarbone while playing football. Each has a number of small cutaneous inflammations on neck, face and upper body; dry, reddish to brown-grey, slightly scaly or thickened. Some oozing serous fluid. Robt. has large patch on upper back also. Worrying. Yeasty and flaking, but nothing to provoke alarm regarding possibility of congenital inherited S. Children in such distressing cases of an infected parent are often born with no symptoms, going on to develop severe rhinitis (and other conditions) later; but my general impression is that both are safe.
Should like both to have fuller investigations by consultant venereologist when we arrive at NY (have recommended Freddie Metcalf at Mercy who is always discreet) but diagnosis for the moment is that it is a matter of nothing more than simple atopic seborrhoeic eczema. Mrs D. concurs.
R. a little on the chubby side; should have more roughage and cod-liver oil. J. complained of irritating efflorescent rash in his right upper thigh area. Clearly caused by nocturnal urination, complicated by the eczema. Appeared embarrassed to discuss matter openly until I confided that a certain Surgeon W. M. of the Theatre of Anatomy, Peter Street, Dublin, had suffered same heavy affliction until age of twelve. Asked me to explain wondrous workings of doctor-patient confidentiality and Hippocratic oath. Did so. Seemed interested. Nice alert boy. I said a physician could no more reveal the condition of his patient than a General his battle plans or a Chinese magician his secrets. Wanted to know if the other surgeons would give him a biffing if he broke the rules. Replied that they would beat him like a drum, set him on fire, then stand around pissing on him and yodelling Hallelujah. (Mrs Derrington not in the cabin at that point.)
Examined family servant, Miss Duane, in an unoccupied stateroom, her personal quarters being too small; little better than a cupboard. She is a 35-year-old widowed lady of quiet enough manner. Underweight. A little frightened. Of an intelligence notably above the average. Very fluent English. Strange Chaucerian kind of flavour. Watchful. Strong physical similarity, now one sees it.
Had been attended by a physician only once in her life before; eleven months ago when she came to work at the house of Lord and Lady K. Had fallen on hard times following death of husband (and child) through drowning accident, she said. Was committed to Galway Workhouse in January 1846. Realised in that place she was two months pregnant. Stole away from the workhouse and walked 180 miles to Dublin. Suffered a miscarriage along the way. Lived there in a hostel for women for a time, latterly at a convent where she worked in the laundry. (Could not remember the name of the convent, nor that of the hostel, nor either of their addresses.) Said Lord K. had found her ‘at a loss’ in the streets of Dublin in January of this year and insisted she return with him to Galway. Lady K. had been concerned for her health and called one Doctor Scolfield or Suffield of Clifden. He diagnosed severe malnutrition. Was taken on as charity case; family servant/nanny. Moved with the family to Dublin in April.
As I commenced the examination she seemed a mite apprehensive; so I attempted a little conversation to put matters at ease. Intends to leave the Merridiths when we arrive at New York. ‘No reason, sir.’ Merely that she does not wish to remain in domestic service. Had never been a servant until relatively recently; felt it was not the life for her. Perhaps intends to go on to Cleveland Ohio. No relatives there, or none she knows of; but had heard it reported that many Connemara people had made their homes there, which I had not known previously. Otherwise might go on to Quebec or New Brunswick. Brother-in-law had an aunt who had once lived at Cape Breton but now she might be deceased, or moved away. I said it must be mighty cold in those northern Esqimaux places and she briefly laughed. Quite extraordinarily beautiful when she laughed; not in any silly way of prettiness or such. In fact she is not pretty; but genuinely and deeply beautiful. But she did not laugh long and I could not make her do it again. Had a little money she had saved from her wages. Would like to work as a seamstress or a shopgirl, perhaps, but will take any opportunity ‘except for domestic service’. I quipped she might meet a handsome groom or butler or suchlike if she went into service and translate her name to his in the end. Replied that she does not intend to marry again. No bitterness in how she said it; simple matter of fact. A sad loss to the suitors of America, I ventured. ‘Perhaps it is, sir; perhaps it isn’t.’
Possibility of incipient arthritis or tendonitis in the left wrist. Ingrown toenail which needs attention. Small but nasty burn from a pressing-iron on left inner forearm. Tendency to chest infection and constrained breathing in a harsh winter such as the present one. ‘Catching-ness,’ she called it. Inherited from late father. ‘A farmer and fisherman, sir.’
Number of healed but visible scars on abdomen, upper back, buttocks, thighs and other areas but for these she offered no explanation other than roughhouse play with her two charges. Tendency to occasional mild skin rashes, she said, but again assumed she had simply picked them up from the boys. Had soothed the rashes herself with an emollient decoction of extract of beehive (!) a thing recommended by her mother many years before. Told her I had only recently read a scholarly paper on that very theme, recommending substance gained from Apis mellifera, the honey-bee. No reply.
No exanthema at present. No lesions or subcutaneous swelling and can remember none. No discharge or pain. Showed her a number of symptomatic illustrations but she said she had never had any. Asked me as I put the book away if it was S I had been looking for. Taken aback at her question (and her knowledge); but I admitted it was. Had never had anything like that, she said. Would know if she did.
No female difficulties at all, except occasional normal aching at t of the m (she pronounced it ‘aguing’), mild melancholia at ovulation and once mastitis in the aftermath of an earlier pregnancy at age 20yrs (1832), treated by a local woman with herbs and drawing-out poultices. (Male child stillborn.) Has a varicose vein in left calf. Some of back teeth v poor. Severe gingivitis of both jaws. Badly corroded and ulcerated ventricular molar must be causing most extreme pain but she complained of none. Overall detected nothing that would give cause to diagnose S but nevertheless v troubled as to reason for evasiveness or dissembling re the scars. Not scrapes or bruises as might result from horseplay, but severe abrasions, welts and striations to the skin. Would say they are a year to eighteen months in age; from before she ever worked as a nanny. Volunteered that her master and mistress never whipped her. (Had not asked her about that, nor mentioned the word whip, though that is quite clearly what caused these defacements.) My suspicion is that the unfortunate girl may at one time have earned her living in a certain manner. Possesses a far greater knowledge of matters of conception and how to avoid it, indeed of the mysteries of the female assemblage in general, than is customary.
As I made to leave she said something which quite knocked me over. ‘Thank you, sir. You are very gentle. You are a very kind man.’
All I could think of to answer was that it was my duty to be kind, after
all. And she shook her head in the strangest way. ‘Your wife is very lucky, sir. Gentleness is a gift.’
I said my wife had passed away a number of years ago now; and in truth would not always have considered herself lucky to be married to a foolish doctor with too many patients. But she did not laugh or even smile. ‘Were you happy, sir?’ she asked me. I said yes; very happy.
‘Did you have children, sir? Yourself and your wife, God rest her.’ I answered that we did: two daughters and a son, all now married with little ones of their own. She enquired as to their names and I told them and she nodded.
‘I will say a prayer for your family, sir. Thank you. It was good of you to think of me. I will never forget the kindness you have shown me today.’
Words quite failed me for several moments. Then I said the honour of the meeting had been entirely my own, which I truly meant; and I wished her every good fortune. I gave her my calling card with the Dublin address and said that if she ever needed a friend she had only to let me know of it. We shook hands and she left, returning to her work. But I noticed she had left the card on a table. I felt I had been in the presence of a very exceptional person.
Examined the Countess Laura Kingscourt last of all. She is 31 yrs and in absolutely perfect health; particularly for a lady who is in her expectant condition.
As with her elder son, we discussed confidentiality; though perhaps in a more concentrated and intensive manner.
CHAPTER XXXV
THE WARNING BEACONS
AN UNUSUAL INCIDENT FROM THE LAST DAY OF THE VOYAGE.
Friday, 3 December, 1847
This one night remaining at sea
LONG: 72°03.09′W. LAT: 40°37.19′N. ACTUAL GREENWICH STANDARD TIME: 02.47 a.m. (4 December). ADJUSTED SHIP TIME: 10.17 p.m. (3 December). WIND DIR. & SPEED: 42° force 7. SEAS: rough. HEADING: S.W. 226°. PRECIPITATION & REMARKS: Air temperature falling. Very strong n. easterlies all day. Gaining strong speed. Sighted Nantucket Island Leading Light this morning at 3.58 a.m. Watch reported warning beacons at Newport, Rhode Island visible by tscope off the starboard by noon.
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