Far From Home (12 page)

Georgiana chatted to some of the other passengers and heard of the millions of tons of freight which were carried by the river and canal boats, cheaper and quicker, said one businessman, than conveying it along muddy and hazardous roads.

‘Pretty soon,’ he said, ‘when the canal network is fully opened up, we shall be able to cross the whole of America by waterway. No worry over tired horses or broken-down waggons.’

He drew on a large cigar and smoke circled into the air. ‘Last year we opened up Ohio. Three canals from Lake Erie to major towns in the state. Yes, ma’am. This country will be wide open and when the politics are sorted out and we get some good engineers, the railroads will take over. Tell your husband, if you have one, that that’s the place to put his money. Canals and railroads.’

She nodded and agreed that she would, and moved away to join Kitty who was leaning on the rail looking towards the outlying hills. In the near distance gangs of men were working with pick and shovel on the new railroads.

‘It’s incredible, Miss Gregory,’ Kitty said. ‘This canal has been hewn out of the rock, and we shall be going through some locks,’ she added excitedly. ‘I’ve never done that in my life before!’

‘Nor I.’ Georgiana smiled. ‘We are having quite an adventure already, aren’t we, Kitty?’

They stopped from time to time on their two-day journey whilst timber was brought on board for the boilers. Gangs of men on the bank hauled on wood stacks piled high at the riverside and threw the timber onto the decks. As they drew nearer to their destination the fuel changed and sackloads of coal from the mines of Philadelphia were carried on board.

It was evening when they arrived in Philadelphia and Georgiana exclaimed, ‘I don’t understand why John Charlesworth made such a fuss about us travelling alone. This is a lovely city, most civilized, and I wish we had time to explore. But I think, Kitty, if we can get a boat tonight then we must get on it.’

‘If you say so, Miss Gregory, though it would be nice to sleep in a proper bed!’

Georgiana hesitated. Should they stay overnight? There were some fine buildings and wide boulevards from what she could see, just as there were in New York, and no doubt there would be some good hotels where they could stay the night. But no, she decided. ‘I think we’ll press on. We can rest when we reach our destination. I don’t feel the journey will be as bad as Mr Charlesworth made out.’

‘Perhaps he just didn’t want us to come, miss. Perhaps he thinks that women should stay at home.’

‘Yes.’ Georgiana nodded. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ She laughed. She had enjoyed the freedom of travelling alone and hadn’t felt in the least threatened. ‘He hadn’t reckoned on two intrepid Englishwomen, had he, Kitty? This journey is no different from travelling on the waterways of Yorkshire.’

When they disembarked at Harrisburg they were very weary. The boat had been packed with people and produce and there wasn’t a berth available. They sat below deck huddled beneath a blanket which Kitty had had the foresight to bring, but they had little chance of rest, for the other passengers chatted and laughed and many of the men played noisy games of cards. They also smoked and spat which Georgiana found extremely trying. They had tried sitting on the outer deck, but a wind had risen and it was bitterly cold.

By day they had tried to snatch some sleep but found they were the objects of curiosity, as the other passengers questioned their motives for travelling and were most intrigued that they were English.

‘You going far, ma’am?’ A rough-looking man dressed in a hide jacket had approached them.

‘Not far,’ Georgiana said, but didn’t volunteer information on their destination.

‘That’s sure a pity.’ He’d blown smoke across them from his evil-smelling cheroot. ‘I was going to offer to escort you ladies. Look after your bags and suchlike.’

‘Thank you, most kind,’ Georgiana had answered, then added, ‘but we are being met.’

‘Ah!’ He’d nodded and moved away towards another family group, sitting down beside them and entering into their conversation.

‘I’m glad to be off that old boat.’ Kitty looked from the quayside towards the small city of Harrisburg. ‘How much further, Miss Gregory?’

‘The next stage of our journey we take a coach to Duquesne,’ she answered, ‘and I could almost hope that there won’t be one until tomorrow so that we can go to an hotel and rest.’

But the coach for Duquesne was about to depart, and as they hesitated they were told to hurry along as there wouldn’t be any other transport for two days. Hastily they handed their luggage to the driver and climbed aboard.

‘Ain’t much left of the fort, if that’s what you be going to look at,’ they were informed by a man, sitting with a woman opposite them and dressed in rough country clothes.

‘I beg your pardon? The fort?’ Georgiana asked. ‘Which fort is that?’

The man gave a snigger. ‘You don’t know about Fort Duquesne?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. ‘We have only newly arrived from England.’

Another man spoke up brusquely. ‘They would hardly be expected to know. It was a long time ago, getting on for a hundred years.’

The first man looked silently at him and then at Georgiana and Kitty. After a moment he said, ‘My grandpappy remembered it. Leastways he was always talking ’bout it. Belonged to the French.’ He nodded solemnly. ‘Then the British took it. Got the Indians to help them. It’s ours now.’

There then followed a long discourse from the passengers on where the other forts had been situated and the battles that had taken place, and Georgiana felt her eyes closing, though sleep was almost impossible as the coach bumped and rattled towards Duquesne.

‘All change at Duquesne.’ They were awakened abruptly by the driver opening the coach door and the other passengers climbing over their feet to get out.

They blinked and looked around them. They were in mountain country. The air smelt different, of wood fires and pine needles, and though there was a settlement, it was small with the buildings mostly built of wood.

‘Can you face another journey, Kitty?’ Georgiana said wearily as they stood amongst piles of timber and merchandise at the roadside. ‘We could stay here today and travel on tomorrow.’

Kitty looked around her at the stores and taverns and the church. ‘Do you think there will be an hotel, miss? Doesn’t look to me as if there will be.’

‘There’ll be some accommodation, I expect,’ Georgiana said. ‘Perhaps only plain and simple, but yes, let’s try. We need some sleep.’

She asked the driver if he knew of an hotel or accommodation where they could stay. ‘There are hostelries, ma’am,’ he said, ‘but I only know Mrs Smith’s guest house. Waggon drivers stay there,’ he said. ‘It’s clean and comfortable but it’ll probably be full.’

And it was. ‘Mighty sorry,’ Mrs Smith said. ‘Everybody’s busy right now. Try Bertram’s beer parlour. They take visitors.’

But they decided against that establishment when they saw the number of men gathered around the door and no women. ‘Perhaps we could manage a short drive.’ Georgiana studied the map that John Charlesworth had given her. ‘It doesn’t look too far from here.’ Charlesworth had marked a cross where the settlement was, the settlement with no name.

Kitty put her hand above her eyes and stared along the road towards the foothills of the mountains. ‘The road looks all right,’ she said. ‘A bit bumpy but probably no worse than the one we have just driven on. Let’s go, miss, if we can find a trap for hire.’

They enquired again and were sent to a wheelwright’s workshop. ‘A trap?’ he said. ‘Ain’t much call for them round here. Got a waggon or a cart if that would do?’

‘All right. Can I have a look at them?’ Georgiana asked.

‘You driven a waggon afore?’ He got up from his work bench and ambled towards the yard at the back of the building with Georgiana and Kitty following behind.

‘No, I haven’t,’ she confessed. ‘Only a trap.’

He gave a grin. ‘And what’ll you do, little lady, if a wheel comes off?’

‘Well, I would hope,’ she said severely, ‘if I am hiring it from you that you will make sure it is fit for the road.’

‘Depends where you’m going,’ he said, walking towards a massive waggon covered with a thick canvas which would take a team of horses to pull it. ‘This un’d take you to Californy if you wanted to go. But I can’t guarantee it won’t fall into a mud hole.’

‘I don’t,’ she said sharply. ‘No more than half a day’s journey. We expect to be at our destination before nightfall.’

He stood with his chin in his hands for a moment whilst he meditated. Then he muttered, ‘Best take old Henry then. She’ll get you where you want to go.’

He put blackened fingers between his teeth and gave a shrill whistle which pierced their ears. A horse whinnied, the sound of hooves clattered across the yard and a shaggy grey mare trotted towards them.

‘Why is she called Henry if she’s a she?’ Kitty asked.

The wheelwright looked at her from under thick eyebrows. ‘Henrietta!’ he said, as if she should have known. ‘Called after my ma. It was her favourite horse. Followed her everywhere.’

‘So – what will she pull? A waggonette or—?’ Georgiana wished he would hurry up; the day was getting on, she was tired and hungry and wanted to be on her way.

‘Best take this.’ He pointed to a dilapidated dog cart with two large wheels. ‘If you ain’t got much luggage and there’s just the two of you.’

‘Is that the best you have?’ Georgiana was dismayed.

‘Yip.’ He spat on the ground and Kitty jumped back. ‘’Cept the waggon and I guess that’s too big just for two ladies.’

‘All right.’ Georgiana sighed. ‘We’ll take it and I assume the horse is reliable?’

He nodded. ‘She’ll get you where you want to be and find her way home if you get lost.’

‘We won’t get lost,’ she said abruptly. ‘We have a map!’

He laughed and whistled another stream of spittle through his teeth. This time they both jumped back. ‘Well, I hope it’s a good un.’ He grinned. ‘Cos some of these tracks have a habit of movin’! Hog-drovers’ roads, some of ’em, or bullock tracks. They don’t take no notice of maps.’

He hitched up Henry to the cart and put in a sack of hay and another of oats. ‘Give her this,’ he said. ‘She’ll tell you when she wants it, else she’ll go off and graze.’

Georgiana cast a glance at Kitty and hid a smile. The man was plainly mad. ‘How much do I owe you?’ she asked.

‘Well, I don’t rightly know.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Best pay me when you come back.’

‘You’re very trusting,’ she said lightly. ‘I might run off with Henry.’

‘Reckon not,’ he said slowly. ‘She’ll give you a nip in the backside if you take her where she don’t want to go.’

They drove towards a store and bought bread and fruit and a large slice of cheese, and then set off towards the mountain road. Henry stepped out smartly and Georgiana started to relax. It was good to be out and she enjoyed the rush of air as they bowled along.

They passed several small settlements in the next two hours where fields were planted with crops, and men, women and children were working on the land. Houses, workshops and warehousing had been built as immigrants, seeking another homeland away from the cities of New England and Europe, followed the canals, tracks and national road system which ran between east and west, found a place they could settle, unhitched their waggons and built their homes.

‘Why Mr Charlesworth thought this would be difficult, I can’t imagine,’ Georgiana remarked. ‘The road is good so far, and although I’m tired, it isn’t so difficult.’

Kitty nodded in agreement. ‘It’s getting dark though, Miss Gregory. I hope it’s not much further.’

Georgiana pulled on the reins to halt. ‘The mountains are blocking out the light.’ She consulted the map. ‘It looks to me as if the road veers left, then right. Hmm. He’s drawn some squiggles here and I’m not sure what they mean.’

Kitty looked over her shoulder. ‘Is it water?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps it’s a stream.’

‘Perhaps so.’ Georgiana gathered up the reins, shook them and clicked her tongue. Henry lifted her head from where she had been grazing on the grass verge and half turned towards them. ‘Come on then, Henry,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’

Henry bent her head and continued to graze. Georgiana shook the reins again. ‘Come on,’ she called. ‘You can have a feed when we get there.’

The mare lifted her head again and shook it, giving a little whinny in response, and slowly set off once more. ‘Maybe she’s hungry,’ Kitty said. ‘I know I am.’

‘Tear off a piece of bread,’ Georgiana suggested. ‘And a piece for me. I don’t want to stop again – the darkness seems to be falling fast.’

Coming from the flatland of east Yorkshire, she was used to the slow onset of dusk, when the wide skies of that county changed from blue or grey and became tinged with red and yellow, orange or purple, depending on the season, as the sun gradually set and disappeared below the low horizon.

Here the golden sun was only half visible above the mountain tops and she guessed that in no more than half an hour it would be gone, leaving them in darkness.

‘We haven’t got a lantern!’ she said suddenly. ‘Why didn’t I think of bringing one?’

‘Oh, miss!’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘I should have thought of it. Why didn’t I?’

‘We were not to know that we would be travelling in the dark. I should have stopped in Duquesne and enquired further about accommodation. How very foolish of me.’

And so they continued for another quarter of an hour, munching on the bread and blaming themselves for not preparing for the journey better. Finally, Kitty said, ‘It’s Mr Charlesworth’s fault, Miss Gregory. He should have said how long a journey it would be, and how many miles. If we’d known, then we wouldn’t have set off when we did but would have stopped overnight. It seems to me, beggin’ his pardon for I know he’s a gentleman, miss, but I don’t think he’s very good at drawing maps.’

‘You’re right. I quite agree and I wonder if he has actually travelled this route.’ Georgiana narrowed her eyes as she saw that the road branched off left. ‘Here it is. At least – I think this is it. It’s very narrow, not much more than a track! Do you think this is it, Kitty?’