To Love Anew (11 page)

“So we’ve been brought to a pigsty, eh,” said the green-eyed woman. She chuckled.

Hannah couldn’t find any humor in it. She looked at the woman, incredulously. “How can you jest about something like this?”

“And what should I do? Whine and wail? That will help, eh?”

“No. But . . . you must agree that this is all quite tragic.”

“That it is, but what purpose does grumbling serve?”

Hannah had to admit that complaining altered nothing, but she was still unable to accept the reality of what was happening to her. How could God have allowed it?
This is too difficult a trial, Lord. Pray, have mercy on me.

Not wanting the daring woman to see her tears, she turned and gazed at London. It was a clear day, very little fog. Smoke belched from chimneys all over the city, staining the unusually blue sky. She felt the tearing of separation. London was the only home she’d known.
I shan’t see you again,
she thought, recounting her recent tribulations and all that she’d lost.

A firm hand rested on her shoulder. “Give it no honor. It’s a ruthless city.”

Hannah looked into kind green eyes.

“Name’s Lydia. Yours?”

“Hannah.”

“Over ’ere. The lot of ye,” shouted a sailor.

The women hurried to obey. They stood in a crowd.

“Line up!”

Scrambling into rows, the women waited while a man dressed in a navy uniform ambled toward them.

“We’ve a fair number of lydies this trip, sir,” the sailor said.

The captain stood quietly, surveying the group. “For the next six to seven months this will be your home. And if you want to live to see New South Wales, you’ll follow the rules.” He strode to one side. “You’ll eat what’s given to you without complaint.” He moved back to the place he’d started. “There’ll be no talking back, no tolerating disrespect, and no fighting between yourselves. You’ll be sorry if I hear of any infractions.”

A sneer replaced his scowl. “I know you’re all innocent as doves. But just in case you’re thinking about socializing with the male prisoners, you need to know there’s no fraternizing allowed. They’re stowed aft and you’ll be in the forward hold.” His eyes narrowed as he looked from one woman to another. “If I see or hear that any of you have been friendly with a male prisoner . . . you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

He glowered at the women. “I won’t heed any complaints against my men. They’ve been assigned this rotten duty; and from time to time they’ll have need of . . . encouragement. So you’ll do as they say.”

A dark-haired woman who looked terrified whispered to Hannah in a quaking voice, “What do you think he means by that?”

“You’ll keep your traps shut when I’m talking!” the captain bellowed. He drew his sword, and in three strides he reached the woman. Pressing the blade against her throat, he asked, “Did you hear me? No talking.”

She stared at him, eyes wide.

He pressed the tip of the blade so tightly against her throat that it sliced through her skin. Blood spilled onto the collar of her dress. The captain smirked and then stepped back. “So we have an understanding, then?”

The woman pressed a hand to the wound. “Yes sir. We do.”

Swiftly he returned to his place in front of the women. “I won’t abide disobedience.”

Heads nodded. Hannah’s thoughts whirled. She was more afraid than she could ever recall and at the same time furious. He had no right.

A child standing alongside the rail whimpered and pressed in against his mother’s skirts.

“And no squalling kids, neither!” His face red, the captain grabbed up the child by one ankle and dangled him upside down over the side.

His mother pressed her hands to her mouth. The boy made no sound, but his eyes were wide and his skin was as pale as the white in the clouds.

“You cry and you’ll become fish bait,” the captain threatened. “You gonna cry?”

The little boy shook his head back and forth.

The captain held him there a minute longer, then moved him back over the deck and dropped him.

“You mothers take care of your young ’uns. There’ll be no sniveling, whining brats disturbing me or my crew.”

Women with children pulled the youngsters closer. Hannah’s eyes fell upon a little girl with red hair and freckles. Her brown eyes were more defiant than afraid. Still, she stood close to her mother.

“Do as you’re told, don’t talk back, and keep your mouths shut unless you’ve got permission to speak. If you do that and don’t let the sweating sickness, diphtheria, or ship fever get you, you just might live to see Port Jackson.” He smiled sardonically.

A shiver of trepidation moved through Hannah.

“If you brought belongings, leave them here. You’ll have no need.”

Hannah touched her mother’s cross, hoping it wouldn’t be taken from her. When the captain looked her way, she immediately dropped her hand.

He walked across the deck and lifted the hatch to the forward hold. “You’ll each be given one blanket. Take care of it. You’ll not get another.”

Two crewmen stood beside the hatch, blankets piled in their arms.

“Down with you.”

The women shuffled toward the hatch. Each was given a blanket before descending into the hold.

Hannah was several paces away when the smell of waste and rotting meat hit her. Her stomach churned and she fought to keep from gagging.

A statuesque woman with dark brown hair stopped at the top of the stairs. “How will we manage with these irons on?” she asked, daring to stare directly at the captain.

He met her defiant gaze. “How will you manage?” he mimicked. “The best you can.” He laughed and turned away.

“But our shackles.” She lifted her hands up in front of her. “Are we to be chained all the way to New South Wales?”

The captain stopped. He stared at her, obviously outraged. “You’ll stay in them all the way there and beyond.” He rested his hand on his sword.

The woman finally turned and started down the stairs. Hannah wondered when she’d have to face the next dreadful episode.

Lydia moved toward the hatch. She accepted a blanket. “Thank ye,” she said blithely and disappeared into the hold.

Hannah took a blanket and followed Lydia. Holding the wool coverlet tightly against her chest, she descended slowly, carefully. A sensation of being swallowed by shadows swept over her as she moved down into the fetid chamber.

Darkness and a horrible stench enveloped her. She swallowed again and again, trying not to vomit. When she stood on the wooden floor, Hannah gazed about the shadowy hold. The only light came from the open hatch. She looked up, fearing the moment it would be shut.

She moved toward a long structure. Three-tiered wooden racks stood in the middle of the room and stretched the length of the space. There were two identical rows. And at one end of the hold there were piles of hay.

Women huddled in the darkness. Some sat on the edge of what was supposed to be a bunk, their face in their hands. Several sobbed while others just stared. The little girl Hannah had noticed earlier sat on a lower bunk beside a gaunt-looking woman who Hannah could only assume was her mother.

She made her way through the dim light, careful not to lose her footing on the slippery wooden floor. She glanced at her feet, wondering what was on the boards that made them so slick, then decided she didn’t want to know. She followed Lydia.

A sailor walked behind the last woman to make her way down. The ceiling barely allowed enough room for him to stand upright. “Find a bunk. I don’t want no noise tonight. Mind yer manners and I’ll leave ye alone. Cause trouble and ye’ll find yourself on the end of this.” He moved a bludgeon from one hand to the other. “If yer good, we’ll light the lanterns for a while tonight.”

Hannah crushed the blanket against her as she watched the sailor climb the steps. The hatch dropped with a thud. Darkness descended. The sound of a wooden bolt being fixed in place sent panic through Hannah. Women and children wept and whimpered.

Still clutching the blanket, Hannah climbed onto a lower berth beside the red-headed little girl and her mother.

“Me name’s Lottie,” said the girl. “And this is me mum.” She rested a hand on the sickly woman beside her. The woman barely managed to nod at Hannah.

“I’m glad to meet you,” Hannah managed, preoccupied with her dismal surroundings. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that light found its way around the hatch, where the boards didn’t fit snugly.

“Up ’ere,” said Lydia. “Ye don’t want to be on the bottom.”

“Why not?” asked Hannah, climbing onto the berth next to Lydia.

“Ye don’t want someone puking on ye, do ye?”

“Oh.” Reality slammed into Hannah like a fist. This was real and she’d have to endure. She lay on her back. The space was so tight she could touch the ceiling. There was no room to sit up. The prisoners lay side by side like bolts of fabric on a shelf.

The woman the captain had singled out for talking slid in beside Hannah. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t do this,” she whimpered. Sobs escaped her lips and she rolled her head back and forth. “I can’t stand it here! I mustn’t be here! I can’t stay!”

“Hush,” Lydia said. “Ye’ll ’ave the guards down ’ere in a flash.” She rolled onto her side and looked at the woman. “What’s yer name?”

“Marjorie Dalton. I don’t belong here. I’m a gentlewoman, quite wealthy in fact.”

“None of us belong ’ere,” said someone from the rack below. She climbed out of her bunk and stood up. Her manacles clanked. It was the woman who had challenged the captain. “Me name’s Rosalyn. And I guess I do deserve t’ be ’ere. I’m no gentlewoman.”

Women continued to cry and a little girl, her voice weak and trembling, said, “Mum, I’m scared. And I’m hungry.”

“I know, luv,” came a soft voice. “Everything will be set right soon.”

Hannah rolled onto her side and stared at the light splashing down the stairway. Why couldn’t they leave the hatch open?

She closed her eyes, hoping to envision another place, but the darkness swelled and the stench intensified.
How am I to survive months in this hole?

As if reading her thoughts, Lydia said, “We’ll make it. Yer a hardy one; I can see that. And I know I’m strong.”

Hannah couldn’t think of anything to say, but she was thankful for Lydia.

The ship put to sea under fair skies. The prisoners were glad for calm waters and only a few were sick. That first day, Hannah ate her portion of salted fish and dry bread. She’d decided she would eat no matter the state of her stomach or the condition of the food. She’d need strength to carry her through the months ahead. Hannah downed the last of her water and wished for more to wash away the taste of overripe fish.

“How’d ye come to be here?” Lydia asked.

“It’s not very interesting.” Hannah didn’t want to tell anyone about what had happened to her.

“Maybe not, but we got a lot of time. Might as well get to know each other.”

“I was caught stealing bread.”

“How long did ye get?”

“Fourteen years.”

“Seems a bit much for a piece of bread.”

“It was a loaf.”

“Still, hardly seems fair.”

Memories of the court hearing and the false charges swept over Hannah. “I was also accused of taking a silver chalice from my employer.”

“Did ye?”

“No. I’ve never taken anything that wasn’t mine, except for the bread.” She rested her head on her bent arm. “I couldn’t find work and I was starving.”

“Ye don’t have to defend yerself to me. I know what it’s like to be hungry.”

Silence settled over the women.

“Why are you here?” Hannah asked.

“Killed a man.”

Startled, Hannah stared at Lydia.

“Don’t look so scared. I was only protecting a life. He would have killed her.”

“Who?”

“Me mum. It was me stepfather. He come home smelling of ale and dead drunk. He gets mean when he’s been at the grog. He started beatin’ me mum. I love her even if she did marry a pig. I couldn’t let him kill her.” She smiled. “I’m thankful to be on this boat.”

“Thankful?”

“Nearly got the gallows. Figure this as a blessing. Course, me mum’s alone now.” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to feel sorry for me. Figure this is a new start. Ye got to take what comes and make the most of it.” Facing Hannah, she pushed up on one arm. “Heard that once we get to Port Jackson there’s work in the settlement outside the prison. I figure anything’s better than rotting in a London gaol or facing the gallows. And I heard tell that a person can get a ticket of leave.”

“How can they do that?”

“Do as yer told, stay out of trouble, and if ye can, be of some help to the governorship. I’m going to do it. Course I got to be better at keeping me mouth shut. It’ll take me ten or twelve years because I got a life sentence.” She smiled at Hannah. “Yer sentence is shorter, and so’s the time ’til ye can qualify.”

“I’m serving fourteen years, so . . .”

“Well, best as I understand, ye can apply in six years.” Her eyes turned hard and her mouth took on a determined set. “I’m not dyin’ on this ship. I’ll not give the British courts the satisfaction. Figure to make it home one day, and God willing, me mum will still be there waitin’ for me.”

Lydia’s tone held such conviction, Hannah believed her. Just listening to Lydia gave her courage.

Storms soon pushed away fair weather and the seas turned violent. Waves lifted the ship and then drove it back down. The vessel was picked up and tossed sideways and then rolled, feeling as if it were going to swamp. Most everyone was sick. Cries and groans emanated from all over the hold, and there was the horrible smell of filth and vomit.

Food was still handed out. When the men came down, they held handkerchiefs over their noses. They’d scramble down the steps, hurry from person to person, slopping out rations, and then rush back up the steps and slam the hatch shut.

Although Hannah lost much of what she ate, she forced the food down, hoping that even morsels would help her stay alive. She’d decided to survive and to do whatever it took to do so.

Sick or not, the women had to empty the slop buckets. Like the others, Hannah made her share of trips to the deck. It was a blessing and a curse. If she could get by the men without their noticing her, the time on deck in the fresh air felt like a gift. At other times, she’d have to ignore their taunting and avoid attempts of some to grab her.