Winthrop Manor

by Mary Christian Payne

  Win had no idea what words he would choose. His wife was due to deliver their child in May. After seeing what had happened to his dearest friend, he wondered if he would be alive to learn whether he was the father of a boy or a girl.

  Following the mournful task of writing to his sister, he trudged forward to join his regiment. The loss of Andrew had an enormous impact on Win. Prior to Andrew’s death, the two would view going "over-the-top" as a great adventure. No matter how grim things had become, they always found something to joke about. All merriment was gone. Win slogged on and only hoped the beastly war would come to an end, so he could return to his beloved Josephine. His heart ached when he thought of the pain Elisabeth would be experiencing. He suspected that she would return to Winthrop Manor upon receipt of the news that she was a widow. Win didn’t know how he felt about that. She should be with her parents, but he questioned whether they would do everything in their power to convince her she’d made an impulsive decision in marrying Andrew. Win was concerned about her.

  ***

  Elisabeth received the letter from her brother a week later on April 27, 1915. Before she even opened it, she had a sick feeling in her stomach. The sight of Win’s handwriting, addressed to her and not to his wife, gave her significant pause. Sure enough, when she opened the envelope and began to read, her head grew light. She was about to faint. Before she keeled over, she called for Josephine, who was immediately by her side. Elisabeth was lying on the front walk, having returned from the post box, the letter still clasped in her hand. Josephine cradled Elisabeth's head and smoothed back her hair. If she hadn’t become conscious when she did, Josephine would have run back inside the cottage and called a physician. They had a telephone in their new home. Elisabeth’s eyes fluttered and then opened.

  “Oh, my God, Josephine. Read the letter. I can scarcely think,” she whispered.

  Josephine took the letter from her sister-in-law’s hand and proceeded to read it. Andrew was dead. Dead and buried somewhere in France. It seemed impossible. Elisabeth had only yesterday received a letter from him, in which he'd said that over all, things weren’t so terribly bad. Apparently, the disgusting Huns had used gas on their enemy. The letter was in Win’s handwriting. Andrew had breathed the deadly toxicant, and the inexplicable effects had ended his life. Win had held Andrew as he died. Josephine’s heart ached for Elisabeth. How on Earth could she possibly cope with such news?

  Elisabeth fully opened her eyes. “He’s dead, Josephine. My precious Andrew is dead. Oh, god. He’s your only brother, too. I can’t believe this has happened. I simply cannot imagine a future without Andrew.”

  Tears were streaming down Josephine’s face, too. She had loved her brother from the moment she could first remember him. He’d always been there for her. It was impossible to think he would no longer be a part of her life. However, she quickly turned her thoughts to Elisabeth.

  “Oh, you poor darling. What can I do to help? Shall I notify your parents? I know you’ve had a falling out, but at times like this, a girl needs her mother.”

  “No. No. She won’t care,” Elisabeth replied.

  Then there was silence. Finally, Elisabeth pulled herself up into a sitting position.

  “Yes. Yes. I do want my parents to know. My mother will undoubtedly be of no help, but my father has love in his heart. He’ll understand how I feel.”

  “Certainly, I’ll telephone them straightaway. Will you be all right if I leave you alone for just a minute? Do you need a glass of water or a cold cloth?”

  “No, I’ll be all right. Help me to my feet. I’ll come into the house with you.”

  Josephine put her arm around her sister-in-law's waist and brought her to a standing position. Then the two entered the front door of the cottage. Josephine still held the crumpled letter in her hand. She helped Elisabeth to lie on the sofa in the parlour and quickly rang the Winthrop number. Radcliffe answered.

  “Radcliffe, this is Josephine, Win’s wife. I’m sorry to bother you, but is Win’s father at home. Elisabeth has received some dreadful news. I must speak with him."

  “Certainly, my lady. He’s right here. Let me put him on,” he replied.

  The next voice she heard was that of the Lord Winthrop.

  “Lord Winthrop here,” he answered.

  “My lord, this is Win’s wife, Josephine. I am indeed sorry to bother you, but Elisabeth has just now learned that Andrew was killed by the wretched poisonous gas the Huns used on our troops on April 22. She’s in a bad way. All undone. She needs her parents. Can you come?”

  “Of course, Josephine. I’m grateful for your call. I’ll have David bring me to your cottage in a tick.”

  “Wait. My lord, we no longer live with my uncle. Before Win left for the war, he commissioned a new cottage for Elisabeth and me on my Uncle Roderick’s land. Let me give you the directions.” She proceeded to do so while the Lord Winthrop wrote them down.

  “Right,” he responded. “I have it. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Josephine replaced the receiver and went to Elisabeth’s side. “I reached your father. He’s on his way. He didn’t mention your mother. I don’t know if he’s bringing her or not.”

  “God, I hope not. I’ll be given some dreadful lecture about how I never should have married Andrew to begin with,” cried Elisabeth.

  “Oh, surely not. Your father sounds truly devastated. I feel certain your mother will share his feelings.”

  “Don’t count on it, Josephine,” Elisabeth managed to say between sobs. “Oh, dear God, what am I to do? I loved him so. I’ll never love anyone like that again. I can’t believe I’ll never see him again.”

  “You will see him again. You were lawfully married in a Christian church. You’ll be together again someday,” Josephine responded. “I truly believe that.”

  “I know. I do, too. But it may be such an interminably long time. I wanted to have his children. I wanted to grow old with him. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

  “Darling girl, I know. That’s the way I’d feel if Win were to die.”

  “Yes, but you’re about to have his baby. You’ll always have a part of him. I’m left with nothing.”

  “No. You have memories. Lovely memories. As long as you’re alive, Andrew will be, too. The same is true of me. I remember when he was a youngster and was my older brother. He’s still alive in my heart, just as he is in yours.”

  “That’s a lovely way to think of it.” She sniffled. “Still, I want his arms around me. I want to place my head on his shoulder. Oh, Josephine, how can I live without him?”

  “Sweetheart, I wish I could tell you. I don’t know. It’s enough to send me over the cliff. I’d feel just as you do if I learned Win was never coming home to me. It’s unbearable for me to imagine that I’ll never see my brother again. I know they say time heals all wounds. There must be hundreds of thousands of women who’ve had to go through this, and think of how many more there will be. Take time to heal, Elisabeth. In time, I imagine the pain will ease. Think of what Andrew would want you to do.”

  Just then, there was a knock at their door. It had to be Elisabeth’s father. Josephine opened it, and sure enough, there stood the Lord Winthrop.

  “Hello, my lord,” she said in a doleful voice. “Your daughter has suffered a devastating blow. She needs you. Please, come in.”

  He thanked her and entered the cottage, glancing about him in what Josephine clearly felt was a critical manner. Naturally, if her home was Winthrop Manor, she supposed she too might be critical of a small, thatched-roof cottage, but Elisabeth had chosen to make her home with Josephine when she might have stayed with her parents while Andrew was serving in the military. Josephine didn’t care what his opinion was. She led him to the sofa, where his daughter was stretched out, a cloth on her head.

  “Daddy,” she murmured. “Daddy. My husband is dead. Gone. I’m heartbroken. I’ll never see him again. I don’t want to live.”

  “Now, now, Elisabeth. I truly am
sorry for this horrible loss. I know you loved him, and I believe he loved you as much. Your mother and I were wrong not to have accepted your marriage. I apologise to you for that. However, we need to put those feeling into the past where they belong. Andrew’s death changes everything. You belong back with us.”

  He turned to Josephine. “My dear, I know you’ve felt more secure having Elisabeth’s company. Can I convince you to join us at Winthrop Manor, so the two of you won’t be parted? Also, it’s obvious your baby is due most any time. We’ll make certain you have a nanny, and the child will have the best of everything. The house has a wonderful nursery, just waiting for another child to begin his or her life there. Please, say you’ll come with Elisabeth. We’ll all be a family.

  “Absolutely not, my lord. I do believe it’s probably best for Elisabeth to return to her parents. She has a long period of grief ahead of her. To see me have Win’s baby would only remind her that she has nothing of Andrew left. I myself am crushed to have lost my only brother. I believe I belong right here in the cottage Win planned for me. I'll have my uncle Roderick if I feel lonely. I hate losing Elisabeth, but I want what’s best for her.” Josephine turned to her sister-in-law. “Elisabeth, if you prefer to stay with me, you know I adore being with you. However, I feel I must say that you probably belong with your own family, at least for a period. Should the time come when you want to return to me, you need only say the word.”

  “Oh, Josephine. You’ve been so good to me. I hate leaving you alone. I’m so undone. I don’t know what the right thing to do is,” she sobbed. “Daddy, is mother in agreement with you? I really cannot stand to listen to her berate me for marrying Andrew, or hear her make snide remarks about the fact that his pedigree wasn’t as fine as mine. I loved him with all my heart. I always shall. Either both of you accept my feelings, or I’d prefer to stay with Josephine.”

  “We shall both accept it, Elisabeth. I’ve spoken with my lady. There will be no derogatory remarks made. She understands how deep your heartbreak must be. So please, agree to come home with me. It’s where you belong, darling.”

  “All right. I do think it would be for the best right now. But if there is anything amiss, I’m returning to Josephine at once. I mean it.”

  “I realise you do. Now, David has the car waiting outside. Come with me, and we’ll get you settled in your old bedchamber. Then I’ll send him back to retrieve your clothing and whatever else you wish to bring home with you.”

  “All right,” she answered, wiping her nose with a handkerchief. “Josephine, thank you so much for understanding. You’ve been such an incredible sister-in-law. Of course, I’ll be your baby’s aunt. You must bring him or her to see me the moment the birth occurs.”

  “I promise I shall,” Josephine replied. “I think you’re doing the proper thing. I believe it’s what Andrew would have wanted. Don’t worry. You’re still my sister-in-law. Nothing will ever change that.”

  *****

  On May 12, 1915, Josephine went into labor. Elisabeth was no longer at the cottage. Josephine most definitely would have called Roderick, but he still had no telephone. She was completely alone. She was frightened and not certain what to do. She considered instructing the stable boy to run to her uncle’s cottage and have him collect her in his automobile, but it was quite a distance from her cottage, and the pains seemed to be very close together. In a frantic moment, she telephoned Winthrop Manor. It truly was the only thing she might have done. Radcliffe answered, and she didn’t ask for anyone else. Instead, she asked that the message of her labor be given to whoever was available.

  Within half an hour, Josephine was at hospital in Winthrop-on-Hart. The Lord Winthrop had been given the word from Radcliffe, and he’d immediately jumped into the Rolls Royce, heading for Josephine's cottage. He hadn’t even waited for David to drive him. As in any small village, word travelled quickly. Nearly everyone was aware that the Winthrop daughter-in-law was hospitalised and about to give birth to the first grandchild. There was a dilemma as to whether the Lady Winthrop should be present. After some discussion, she stayed at Winthrop Manor, knowing full well her husband would inform her when the baby arrived. Elisabeth rushed to Josephine’s side. She’d been admitted at 10:15 a.m. It was the beginning of thirteen hours of very hard labor. Josephine was tiny, and finally, Dr. Morris made the decision to take the baby by Cesarean section. It was not what Josephine had wished, but she was so fatigued from endless hours of pain, she readily accepted his decision.

  Thus, at eleven o’clock in the evening, Josephine gave birth to a splendid, healthy boy. She named him Andrew Chambers Winthrop. She hadn’t forgotten the plans she and Win had made regarding choice of names, but after Andrew died, she’d decided to alter the first name from Theodore to Andrew. There was no doubt in her mind that Win would be in accord with that decision. The child looked like his father, though he had inherited Josephine’s eyes. He had quite a sensational head of hair for a newborn—thick and black, like his father's. His features were perfect in every respect. The dark hair emphasized the true green of his eyes. All of the nurses on duty raved over what a beautiful baby he was.

  Word was brought to the Lord Winthrop and Lady Elisabeth, who had waited those many hours at hospital. The Lord Winthrop immediately telephoned his wife, who longed to have a peek at this newest addition to the Winthrop family. However, she was well aware of the negative feelings still separating her from Josephine. Oliver Winthrop had been given an exemption from the military, on the grounds that he was the youngest son of an earl who owned thousands of acres of farmland in Hampshire, and he was indisputably needed to carry on the work of food production for the troops. He was greatly angered when word reached him about the birth of a nephew. The child’s entrance into the world would have a great impact upon Oliver’s future. Because Win now had a son, even if he didn’t live through the ghastly war, where hundreds of thousands of men were losing their lives, his offspring would become heir to Winthrop Manor. Josephine instinctively knew Oliver’s feelings when he paid a visit to hospital. He performed a lovely act of pretending to be a happy uncle, but Josephine knew where his true feelings lay.

  Josephine immediately sent a wire to her husband, announcing the splendid news that they had a wonderful, little son and heir. In the last letter Josephine had received from Win, in late April,1915, he’d spoken of preparations for entrance into battle. He hadn’t indicated his locale. There were so many battles occurring that he might have been anyplace. Of course, Josephine was always extremely concerned about extended lack of communication, but she was also aware that it was extremely difficult for soldiers to find time to write. When he wasn’t in battle, he was trying to recuperate from the last one he’d endured. She continued to write to him daily. Having lived through the dreadful news of her brother’s death, she was frightened every time any sort of information arrived. She couldn't help but wonder if each letter would be the last. She was discharged from hospital and returned to her cottage, where Uncle Roderick came to stay with her, along with a hired nurse to teach her how to care for the baby and allow her additional time to recuperate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Josephine waited and waited for word from Win, knowing that he would write immediately when he learned he had a son. However, no letter arrived. Months and months went by, and it became obvious that something was terribly wrong. She grew more and more concerned as time went by. Then, in September, 1915, she received a letter from the military authorities, informing her that Win was missing in action and had been since the previous spring. That explained the incredibly long silence.

  The wording could have meant anything from his having been taken prisoner, to desertion, which she firmly doubted, to German execution, or death on the battlefield and an inability to identify his corpse. She endured a substantial amount of agony, wondering what had become of her beloved husband. Because of her continued closeness with Elisabeth, they exchanged daily telephone calls. She felt certain Elisabeth would
share the news of Win’s disappearance with the Lord and Lady Winthrop and Oliver.

  She wanted them to know. The Lord Winthrop had many contacts and was immensely well-equipped to obtain answers from the War Department. She sent a second copy of her original letter through the International Red Cross, praying that members of that group might come upon him when they toured German POW camps.

  Once the Lord Winthrop learned of his son’s disappearance, he began to make enquiries. Although there’d been no communication between Josephine and the Winthrop family, Win’s father did immediately contact Josephine. She was most wary of his motives but was also aware that he could be of great help in locating Win. Regardless of the animosity between them, she felt Win would want her to be in contact with his father.

  His father checked all British medical units in the area, through the Department of Defense and the Red Cross. Questions were asked of survivors of the action in which he’d gone missing. There had been scant hope of learning anything from fellow soldiers, since during the fog of war, few if any soldiers paid attention to which of their mates were killed or injured. Formal enquiries and an exchange of information between Britain and her enemies were made via neutral powers, but no evidence of significance was found. Josephine chose to believe he was in enemy hands, for then, at least, she could pray that when the Allies finally declared victory, he would come home to her. She was terribly anxious for such information to be confirmed.

  She was told that British soldiers taken as prisoners in France were almost always moved to camps all over Europe. If that were the case, he was definitely incarcerated in a POW camp, but there was no indication as to where he was being held. It was a nightmare, but Josephine held on to that hope with all of her might that he was safe and alive.

  ***

  Win was in the Netherlands. After his inhumane experience with the German use of poisonous gas, he’d been given a short rest behind the front lines, which was when he’d written his last letter to Josephine, in April, 1915. Then he'd been returned to the battlefield. He'd fought so many dangerous and brutal battles against the Germans, for such an extended period of time, that he'd nearly lost count. He'd come very close to injury and even death many times, but luck, or God, had always seemed to be by his side. However, on May 21, 2015, Win’s luck ran out.