by Hawke, Jessa
Chapter 3: War Council
Waverly Manor, Suffolk
October 12, 1816
The fear and hunger had begun to set in on Wyecombe. No longer was it customary for a pair of girls to venture forth on their own on a weekly basis. Through letters given by hand between the Whitcastles and their benefactor, it was agreed that a monthly trip would be necessary in view of the worsening safety of the country road. Furthermore, it was agreed that Charles or one of the farm hands would be compelled to travel with the girls, if they were to go at all. There had been too many incidents on the road involving desperate, starving people. Even if they weren’t accosted, the sights of the poor and hungry begging for food in which the Whitcastle girls were unable to give was deemed too harrowing a sight for their eyes.
This was not to say the folk Waverly Manor was mean-spirited. What they could afford, they shared with travelers. It was little enough, to be certain, but better than most of their neighbors could offer. In fact, some of those who turned up at their doorstep were specifically their previously comfortable farm neighbors. Sarah opened the door one morning and was shocked to see Jonathan Dawson standing there, his eyes fixed upon the ground and his hat in hand.
“Please, Miss Sarah,” he mumbled, refusing to look up. The boy couldn’t have been much older than 14-year old Jane, but had wasted away to a size more properly associated with a child of Beth’s age. “If you’ve any work at all, I’ve a mind to do it.”
“Come in, Jon Dawson. Be quick,” she urged him, glancing around. “I wouldn’t want others to see, or they may have the wrong idea.”
She pointed to a large black pot hanging over the fireplace. “There’s porridge there. It’s not much to taste, but it’s certainly filling.” In truth, it was more of a glue paste in flavor to her palette, but she expected he might be grateful for it all the same.
Sarah wasn’t surprised to see him gulping it down. The speed with which he was eating alarmed her so she gently placed a hand on the bowl he held close to his face, almost as though in fear it would be taken from him. “There’s no hurry, Jon. Please slow your bites, lest you choke.”
“Sorry.” He looked embarrassed again, so she gave a light laugh.
“It’s just the appetite of a hard-working farm boy, I should expect! When I was your age, slender girl that I am, I certainly worked up a great willingness to eat all I could as well.”
“Oh, yes, that’s it,” he agreed. But with a sigh, he added between proper spoonful’s of food, “I wish there were more work to do. We’ve grown hardly an oat or grain. Father is most upset these days. He says we’re ruined.” The last words tapered off with some embarrassment, though he was quick to add, “I should imagine that’s not so, though. There are hard years and good years. He’s worried for us, I’m sure.”
“Certainly,” Sarah agreed. As she swept the floor, Jane and Louisa came in from the yard where they’d been doing outside chores. Jane placed a basket hard upon a counter, and in response, Sarah gave a sharp cry.
“Jane, have a care! One would think there were an endless supply of eggs. If you’ve cracked one, I shall be very cross with you.”
Her blonde-haired sister rolled her eyes and brushed away the comment. “You only think you’re mother, you know. Oh, now who is this? Aren’t you to introduce us to…” When she took a much closer look at the gaunt, pale features of the farm boy, she drew back with surprise and alarm. “Oh! Jon! I didn’t know it was you.”
“Good day, Miss Louisa. Miss Jane.” The boy, recalling his manners, stood and bowed to each of the girls, who in turn curtsied.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Mild-mannered, bespectacled Louisa replied in her usual whispery voice, the first of the two to break an uncomfortable silence between the young people. Jane was in too great a shock at the sight of the once strong young lad she’d confessed to having a crush on. He wasn’t skeletal, but he was in danger of reaching that stage.
“And I’m pleased to see you as well. Pray, how are your parents?” He asked before sitting down and slowly returning to his meal. “I would like to thank them for this kindness. I’ve not had a proper meal in, well, I shouldn’t like to say.”
Jane cleared her throat, her voice wavering slightly with nerves as she answered. “Oh, we saw them off at the gate this morning. They had to go to market, you see, for feed. Mother also needed to buy cloth. Sister Beth is at play in the yard, having finished her chores. We shan’t see her again until well after midday.”
As the girls began putting the milk and eggs away that were gathered from their animals, there was a sharp rap at the front door. They froze, looking at one another with curiosity.
“I wonder who that could be.” Louisa mused. However, Sarah was less sanguine about the matter.
“Jon, please don’t be greatly offended, but may I ask that you remain in the kitchen while I answer the door?” Sarah suggested. “I fear we can’t offer more food to every person who comes to call, or we won’t have any left for ourselves.”
He nodded without glancing up from his meal, seemingly grateful for a full meal and disinterested in further conversation.
Sarah let them and cautiously opened the door. She was mightily relieved to see Edgar Jackson had come to call.
“Edgar! Dear Edgar,” she said breezily. “Louisa, Jane, come quickly. Mr. Edgar Jackson is here.” She caught herself sounding a little excited without meaning to, and tried to draw back from it.
The truth was that the two had begun to see a good deal of one another in recent work. The matching was a comfortable one; if not usually one with the sort of excitement that she had momentarily given into. They spoke for long hours about society, literature, and the future world that may present itself to them as they grew older. Each confessed to energy and spirit on the subject of an education, and Mr. Jackson was refreshingly modern in his belief that a woman’s education should in no way be circumscribed to a lesser degree than her male counterparts should.
Yet on the few times they’d discussed travel he’d grown increasingly silent on the subject until she’d recognized it wasn’t a place for common ground. Perhaps if they decided to take things into a more serious direction she would simply have to send for one of her sisters and make arrangements for a civilized journey on their own. Whitcastles had friends and relatives in Stockholm, Hamburg, and even far away America. An excuse for travel could be made, while Edgar was left to his work.
He had, of late, become Edgar to her, and she Sarah.
After courtesies were observed, they went to the sitting room. Sarah offered to fetch tea and bread – they had a little they could spare, and she expected Edgar would be characteristically hungry after his walk – when she was struck by the fact Jon was finished and awaiting a last opportunity to thank her. She quickly accepted his thanks and let him out.
“You can’t imagine what a pain Heidi was today to milk,” Jane explained on Louisa’s behalf. “She’s normally very easy to manage, isn’t she Louisa?”
“Oh dear, I suppose so. I hope this isn’t frightfully boring, Mr. Jackson,” Louisa timidly suggested.
“Not at all!” By his tone, Sarah had come to recognize he was just being nice. She served his tea and sat nearby.
“Edgar… I wonder, how are the town folk managing with these difficulties? I’ve not been to town, as you know, for some time. Do they struggle as the people in the country do?”
He fidgeted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t care to dispirit young Miss Jane with such talk, if you’ll pardon me.”
“There’s no need for that.” Jane corrected him. “You’d know that if you’d seen Jon.”
“Jon?”
“Yes.” She pursed her lips and thought about how to reply. “He was a fine boy by all accounts. Now he could be mistaken for a scarecrow.”
“I see.” He set his tea aside and folded his hands before him. “I fear this winter – this proper winter – will be a difficult one for Wyecombe. I’m given to unde
rstand that our position by the sea and sometime relationship with the admiralty when we were helping beat back Boney has allowed for better access to supplies. But not all are recipients of such goods and, consequently, there has been hardship. It is very much the same in many other places.”
“Places such as London?” Jane asked. “I do hope not. I hope to see London again soon. It’s been many years and it is such a grand city.”
“London, Birmingham, Edinburgh, Dublin, and most certainly the continent. I’ve heard our American cousins have struggled with an unending winter as well in their northeastern states.”
“Hmm.” Jane put her finger to her lips, apparently thinking. “States. I confess I always think of them as colonies still. Isn’t that silly? I should think they’d rather prefer to be colonies. Our empire is quite great. I have often thought that…”
“Be a dear, Jane, and fetch Beth for her supper,” Sarah interrupted. Her sister gave her a slight scowl, but went to do as bid. When she’d left, Sarah added, “My apologies, Edgar. If we didn’t intervene, Jane would prattle on in such a way as to make it quite impossible to untangle her musings from any real thought.”
“Think nothing of it.” He smirked, but let the smile quickly vanish from his face. “Louisa, as you are somewhat older than she, I feel more comfortable in saying that I fear the situation in Britain is dire. I think it is no exaggeration to say we shall see a great loss of life before the next harvest, presuming… presuming that the winter does come to an end.” He spoke what they were thinking and though there was an element of fear in admitting their greatest worry, it felt strangely relieving to admit it.
“I have long taken comfort in scripture to make sense of the world around me, Mr. Jackson,” Louisa confided. “It has been my rock. After what I’ve seen today, with this world seemingly encased in ice, I find I struggle to find what God intends for us to do. Surely it is a test and this too shall pass.”
“I pray you are right,” Edgar agreed with grim determination.
“Has there been no provision made for the children of the town?” Sarah asked.
He said nothing, simply shaking his head. When she got no response, she tried again. “Perhaps if you said something to the merchants of the town…”
He laughed at this. “You think they would listen to me? To give away that which is so dear is unlikely. There would be many, my brother included, who should think that an unwise course. No. It’s brutal, to be certain, but there’s nothing to be done for it, they’d say.”
Sarah wasn’t certain what she was hearing. Did he mean they were opposed to it, or that he was? “Of course. That is to be expected, in some regards. I didn’t suppose that everyone would be willing to rally to such a cause as greed blinds money in the pursuit of coin. But certainly, you are so persuasive, Edgar, I should imagine that a few uncertain of the benefit of to humanity if not their own soul would come to see the light.”
“I don’t know about that.” He began sounding definite about doing nothing, so she egged him on.
“Can you not imagine how the merchant class would look to the public? Sheltering, clothing, and feeding the most vulnerable in these strange times would go far in breeding goodwill. Consider the benefits to you mill, as well.”
“In what way?” he asked, sounding dubious.
“Parents who have to stay with their children as they weaken and die must not be very good employees, I would imagine. Have you never thought that they themselves may be wasting away and distracted by their hardships rather than putting their back into their work? Now, if Jackson Mill were to provide its employees and families with the surety of food…”
He chuckled at this. “What do you suppose, dear girl, their wages are meant to furnish?”
She bristled at this. “Prices, as well you know, have become quite steep for food. I would think that unless you are paying them in gold bars they must be unable to fully provide for themselves. They haven’t the luxury of milk cows and eggs to help sustain themselves as we four do, either given the long hours they must work. Look at it practically, Edgar,” she continued to argue. “If you win the day by arguing on behalf of such provisions, how could you not but rise in respect both in the community and in Jackson Mill?”
That notion turned in his mind and he finally seemed to see the sense in it. “I don’t think you know a great deal about business, my dear, and I mean no discourtesy to say so. Your sex has a mind that doesn’t turn to such matters. But I see now that you have played conscience for me. I will consider what you’ve suggested. It’s idea that may yet bear fruit.”
Sarah felt pleased to have found a way to possibly both worked her will and potentially advance Edgar’s position. After he’d left, she told herself she’d been wise to handle it as she had. Yet, a feeling of something being off about the encounter kept her on edge through much of the day. When she and Louisa were alone in their shared room late that evening, her agonizing was picked up by her sister.
“I know what troubles you,” she quietly noted.
“Oh, I don’t wish to speak of it,” Sarah announced and just as quickly changed her mind. “That’s not true.”
“I know your mind sooner than you, I think,” Louisa quipped. She was brushing her long blonde hair, counting each brush stroke until she reached one hundred times on each side. “You’re thinking that he should have made the suggestion himself. That he shouldn’t have been so hard to convince.”
“It has bothered me. Do you think him cruel? I would not have thought so. He has such a gentle and warm-hearted demeanor towards Beth.”
“I don’t know. Does he often seem distracted? I have noted that men can grow tired of the feminine voice and cease paying attention.”
Sarah fell backwards into her bed, a habit she’d been following since before she’d been Beth’s age. “I suppose it could have been that. It’s more though. You know, I thought I had many good ideas. He barely noticed, though. I expected… I don’t know what I expected.”
Louisa kept brushing her hair. “He seems nice in many ways and I see why you are fond of him. But I’d have a care of him if I were you. You gave him all of your ideas and he seemed to say very little.”
“That’s exactly it.” She furrowed her brow, growing more upset as she thought about it. “I realize he’ll never let me be part of the mill, not truly. But this one little part of it may make a great difference for his future and for so many others and yet… and yet, there wasn’t a word of thanks given. I just wanted this one way to be part of something he cared about. Does he not appreciate me?”
“Perhaps you have?” Louisa suggested. “He seemed willing to hear your idea by the end. You persuaded him; now he merely need persuade the merchants. Perhaps he can do it!”
“I pray that is so. For the moment, my confidence is not what it was. There are things about Edgar that worry me.”
Louisa stopped brushing her hair and firmly put the brush down. “I wish I could offer wise counsel, sister. I have so little experience in these matters. I want to say to listen to your heart, and yet I wonder if you are not magnifying every little concern? As you grow closer and get to know him, you may be finding fault. Oh, I just don’t know.” She ended, throwing up her hands. “I suppose that’s not very much help.”
“No, it’s fine.” Sarah rolled over on the bed and pet her sister’s hand. “You’re quite sweet to put so much tender thought and concern into my affairs. I will listen to the warning in my heart and be cautious. And I think I will also try not to be too critical of the flaws I think I see. We each need time to discover one another. That seems most reasonable to me, don’t you agree?”
“Makes sense to me.” Louisa blew out the lamp by the vanity and returned to her bed. “I really must sleep now. Goodnight and sweet dreams.”
“You as well.” But there was to be little sleep for Sarah, as she continued to turn thoughts over in her mind about Edgar. As she drifted off, her mind turned to a distant boat floating out on th
e horizon, bound for tropical islands and blue lagoons.
Chapter 4: The Two Captains
Jackson Mill
October 27, 1816
Edgar Jackson stood before all of the men, women, and children of his mill – his brother’s mill, as he far too often described it, despite his partial ownership – cleared his throat, and started to speak. His words were carefully chosen as a result of a long and unpleasant discussion with Robert. He looked briefly over at Sarah, who he had invited to witness his announcement.
“Employees of Jackson Mill, thank you for gathering for this meeting. We have not been insensible of the difficulties that you and your families have suffered due to the wicked nature of the weather. Like you, we have no notion as to why it is behaving so strangely. It is an act of God.
“But if this is an act of God, then we shall not shirk in the face of this test of our courage. We are aware that many of you now find it hard to manage the purchase of food. Though we can’t supply all of your meals, Jackson Mill can guarantee every worker and their household family two meals per day. A hearty oatmeal will be provided for breakfast. Soup and bread will be served for supper.
“Furthermore, we shall be employing a physician from London on sight. His office will be open to any employee or family members who has need of basic medical attention. I am aware there has been an increase in the number of illnesses beyond what is normal. By providing this service and these two meals, it is my hope that we can stave off the worst of the conditions caused by this most unnatural and trying environment.”
He looked up meaningfully from his prepared remarks to make eye contact with several employees. “I want you to know that my brother Robert and I are in complete agreement on the terms of these benefits we provide you with now. In return, we shall anticipate production will not lag. Indeed, it would be well if we saw a boost in productivity. I pray you will repay us with hard work. Can I count on you?”