Authors: Valerie Wood
Isaac Masterton sat down thoughtfully in a comfortable chair by the fire. He knew that all his nephew said was true, that the people down by the river lived in abject conditions in mean, damp houses without sanitation; and the situation was getting worse as more people poured into the town looking for work and housing, trying to escape the poverty of the countryside.
He did the best he could for his own men, he reflected. They received good rates of pay, and ample food and provisions were provided on board his ships. His vessels were sound – they had to be to withstand the battering they received from the gales and the ice. But he was disappointed with the
Polar Star
. She was Plymouth built, three hundred tons, and he had had her specially strengthened and fortified to resist the pressure of the ice. He had expected this last voyage to be a long and successful one, but the vessel had been beset by problems from the time she had reached the northern seas.
He sighed. He’d lost three good men, two dead and one maimed, and at least four others had lost fingers to the frost. He looked down at his own hands, at the stump of the little finger on his left hand, where he too had been the victim of the deadly cold and at which his sensitive wife shuddered.
Still, he thought, they had caught four whales, all good sized, and a number of seals, so the voyage should break even as far as profit was concerned, and the damage to the
Polar Star
wasn’t irreparable. The ship’s carpenters had done some good work on repairing the damaged timbers when the ice had hit and she should be sound again, ready in time for the next voyage.
He only hoped that the
Greenland Star
would come safely home, for the last news he had received was that conditions were bad and that she was fast in the ice and unable to move. Captain de Raad of the
Polar Star
had taken the right decision to head for home rather than risk the ship breaking up.
‘Come and sit down, John, there are a few things that I’d like to discuss with you.’ He indicated the chair opposite. ‘I would like your opinion on a venture that I am planning. And you, Isobel, my dear, I would like you to attend if you would.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I have in mind the notion of purchasing a country estate. There is a property on the market which I am very taken with; a fine house with good land overlooking the sea.’
His wife looked at him in astonishment. ‘A house in the country! But whatever would we do? Who should we see?’
‘You would do whatever it is you do now,’ he answered rather testily. ‘You will have your coach and you could visit, and have people to visit you. Much as you do now – but the air will be better.’ He smiled. ‘And there will be no noxious odours to complain of, only the smell of the sea and the scent of the flowers which you will grow in your garden.’
John cut in enthusiastically. ‘It sounds a capital idea, Uncle, and presumably you would keep this house for offices and storage?’
‘That’s it exactly. We’re getting very short of warehouse accommodation, and this will be convenient with the garden running down to the harbour edge. The clerks and tallymen will work from here and that means a saving of time and money.’
He rose from his chair as a servant came in to announce supper. ‘But more of that later, for I have other things that I wish to discuss with you on the same matter.’ He turned to his wife. ‘If you are agreeable, my dear, and the weather is clement, I suggest that we take a drive over to see the house on Saturday. I will make the necessary arrangements with the agent.’
During supper, which was a plain, well-cooked meal since Isaac Masterson was an unpretentious man with no inclination for what he called fancy food, Isobel asked with a sudden burst of enthusiasm if they would have new furnishings and carpets if they should remove to the country – the embellishments of a town house would be quite unsuitable for country living.
‘Yes, yes, I expect so,’ replied her husband benevolently. ‘The house will be considerably larger and I suppose that nothing will fit. The air will be very good for you out there, my love, and for our child.’
He didn’t add that the sooner they could get away the better, for the doctor had warned him that Isobel’s confinement was sure to be difficult and possibly dangerous as she was at such a mature age for a first child. In a larger house they would have room for a nurse to live in as well as the midwife. Isaac was determined that his wife and child would want for nothing.
‘So, Uncle, will you try your hand at farming as well as shipping?’ John asked later as he and Isaac sat alone together, Isobel having retired to rest in her room.
‘I will,’ he answered, holding a glass of brandy towards the fire to warm it. ‘And I hope to be as successful in that as I have been in shipping. But I must confess that I am looking towards the future and the time when I can safely leave the running of the business in other hands, to someone I can trust.’
He looked keenly at John and sipped the amber liquid. ‘I would like to take on a partner, but the man I have in mind is not yet ready, being rather young and inexperienced.’
John raised his eyes from the fire into which he had been gazing reflectively. ‘A partner, sir?’
‘Aye,’ replied his uncle. ‘Do you think that you could contemplate it? I have had the plan in mind for some time. You will need more instruction, of course, and practical knowledge. If the men know that their employer has had experience of the hazards out on the ice and the working conditions, then they will respect him; not just as someone who pays their wages, but as someone who understands their needs.’
He finished his brandy and went on, ‘I do believe that this is the reason why this company has been so successful. But whaling isn’t something to be undertaken lightly. As you have already discovered, it is a perilous and hazardous life and you will need to think seriously about it.’
‘It’s what I have dreamed of, Uncle, and more than I could ever have hoped for. I can’t thank you enough for what you and Aunt Isobel have done for me and for the affection you have given me. If by becoming your partner I can in some way repay your generosity then I shall be more than happy.’
Isaac nodded. It was the reply he expected from his sister’s child. John was always courteous and very warm hearted, just as his mother had been. He had planned for some years that when the boy came of age and if he came up to expectations, then he would offer him a partnership. If his own child lived and was a son, it would of course make some difference, but as he was now in his middle forties he couldn’t envisage that he would live to see a son take over the running of the business.
‘I would very much like to go whaling again, sir,’ John added. ‘As this last voyage was so short, I don’t feel that I acquired much experience.’ He smiled grimly. ‘That is, apart from assisting the surgeon to amputate that poor devil’s leg.’
‘Very well. If you’re sure, then we’ll work towards a future partnership.’
John was very sure. He wanted to explain, but hesitated in case his uncle thought him a fool, that in spite of the danger and the risks which existed, the excitement that he had felt on his first voyage and the soul-stirring exhilaration on seeing the ice for the first time had filled him with wonder. The field of ice spreading before them, with its curious white light hovering above it, had given him an extraordinary sensation of entering a mysterious new world.
For three weeks Maria walked each day down the long road to the Infirmary. She had wanted to bring food to tempt Will’s appetite, for she could see how thin he had become, but she was told that this was against hospital rules which were extremely strict. She brought him clean nightshirts which she had washed at home or, if the weather was fine, along with other women, she would wash the soiled linen in the clear water of the Spring Drain which ran alongside the hospital grounds.
Then at the end of the third week she arrived at his bedside to find him sitting in a chair, a nurse at his side and a pair of wooden crutches leaning against the bed.
‘’Doctor says he can go ’ome, missus,’ said the nurse. ‘He just has to walk ’length of ’ward and he can go. We can’t do any more for him in ’ere.’
Maria moved forward to help Will, but he put his hand up to stop her.
‘No, I must do this missen. I don’t want anybody’s help.’ And gripping the iron bed rail he pulled himself up and, gingerly balancing, propped a crutch under each arm and slowly and painfully started to move along the ward.
Sweat ran down his face as he concentrated on remaining upright, and with the unaccustomed activity the pain in his body and limbs was excruciating. He was determined to reach the end of the ward unaided and without falling, and yet as he almost reached the far door he overbalanced, falling with a crash to the floor.
Maria rushed towards him.
‘Leave me be, woman,’ he shouted in a voice that she had never before heard him use. ‘I have to do this missen, I won’t be a cripple and rely on women’s help!’
He saw the look of dismay on Maria’s face as she stood back and he was sorry, but he was resolved that from the start he would still be his own man and would look to no-one for help, not even his wife.
‘Then I’ll go and hire thee a cart,’ she said curtly, ‘for even thou can’t walk all ’way home on a pair of wooden sticks.’ With a flounce she turned away and walked out of the door leaving him sprawled on the floor.
His anger evaporated as she disappeared, and he cursed himself out loud for the fool he was with his quick temper. He pulled himself upright again and once more set off to walk down the length of the ward, this time with the encouragement of the other patients, who cheered him on as he passed their beds.
Ten times down the ward and ten times back he went without falling again, until he fell back exhausted on to his bed, his face flushed with effort and his armpits sore where the crutches had rubbed.
It was here that Maria found him later when she cautiously put her head around the door. ‘Art thou still in a foul temper, Will Foster? Or is it safe to come in?’ she asked.
‘Come here, lass.’ Oblivious to the grins of the other men, he drew her near to him on the bed. ‘Next time I shout at thee, just clout me one with my crutch.’ He buried his face in the soft dark cloud of her hair. ‘I’m that desperate to get home.’
‘Come on then, let’s go.’ She disentangled herself from his arms. ‘’Doctor says he’ll discharge thee,’ and with a light laugh she added, ‘Thy carriage awaits at ’door, sir.’
‘Carriage, what carriage?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘Well, hardly a carriage,’ she answered, her lips trembling a little with apprehension. ‘More of a cart, for I just met Francis Morton and he arranged it for us.’ She spoke rapidly for she knew that Will didn’t approve of the Morton family and she saw his face darken.
‘Just this once, Will, accept some help, please – the Mortons have been very good to me, and I’m just about all in.’
He smiled at her then as he saw the tears glisten in her eyes and he took her roughened hands in his. ‘It’s all right, Maria, don’t tek on so. I’ll be glad to ride in Frank Morton’s carriage, just as long as it isn’t going up ’turnpike road to ’gallows.’
Maria smiled back and was relieved to know that she didn’t have to explain to Will how she had met Francis on the road outside the hospital, where he had obviously been waiting for her, and on hearing of their need for some kind of transport had offered to help. When she had thanked him he’d laughed softly and told her to think nothing of it.
It was later, as they’d returned to the hospital after collecting the horse and cart and he’d helped her down with a swagger, that he’d kept hold of her longer than was necessary, and pulling her towards him and running his hand over the swelling protuberance of her belly had said smoothly, ‘Of course, Maria, don’t forget tha’s in my debt now, and I might one day come and collect!’
The cool air was like a tonic as Will emerged from the hospital after the weeks of confinement indoors and on board ship, and he took a long, deep breath, filling his lungs. He gazed at the lush green meadows surrounding the Infirmary and thanked God for his recovery. Although he still felt weak and in pain, he experienced a longing to start his life once again after having almost lost it.
‘Can we go through ’market, Frank?’ he asked, ‘I’ve a mind to see a bit o’ life, now that I’m out.’
Francis good-naturedly agreed and they drove along at a cracking pace. They passed the fine new houses which were being built on the outskirts of the town, some of them already occupied, and Francis, who seemed to be very knowledgeable, told them who lived where, and which rich merchant owned what.
‘Tha should see some of ’fine silver, Maria,’ he said cynically. ‘It fair makes tha mouth water. Doesn’t seem right, does it, that some should have so much and others have nowt?’
‘I reckon they’ve earned it, some of ’em,’ answered Will sharply. ‘I don’t begrudge them it.’
They turned into the narrow Posterngate and jostled with other carts as they moved down towards Holy Trinity Church, and into the Market Place which was congested with stalls. Crowds were gathering in groups to meet and talk and drive a bargain with the stallholders.
‘Will, Will Foster!’ a voice called to them, and Francis pulled the old horse to a stop as they saw the tall figure of John Rayner striding towards them.
He held out his hand to Will. ‘It’s good to see you out again,’ and turning towards Maria, he touched his hat, ‘and you too, Mrs Foster.’
They talked for a few minutes before he took his leave, and as he turned away Will said hesitatingly but still with a touch of pride, ‘If tha does hear of owt in ’way of work, I’d be glad if tha’d put in a word.’ He glanced towards Maria who was sitting in the back of the cart, her shawl covering her swelling figure, and muttered, ‘Matters are rather pressing, as tha’ll realize.’
‘I’ll keep my ears open,’ John answered as he turned away. ‘Rest assured.’
‘Mixing with quality now, are we?’ asked Francis with a sneer as he shook the reins. ‘Aye well, it’s just as well to keep in with folks who have plenty, tha never knows when they might be useful.’