Battle Fleet (2007) (10 page)

I didn’t want to go back to live in Norfolk, but I did long to stroll down those leafy lanes and see the joy on my parents’ faces when they first set eyes on me. The wood smoke and polish smells of home filled me with a sweet, almost painful, longing. To have my meals lovingly cooked by my mother, rather than some cursing, peglegged cook, who probably spat in the stew, would be something to look forward to. To stay in bed past seven o’clock and wake to breakfast rather than several hours of scrubbing the decks – that would be marvellous too.

We were five miles off the Dorset coast when we saw them. Four souls adrift in a small boat – two men of middle years, a young woman and a child of three or four. Judging by their clothes, they were people of some standing.

‘Hove to,’ shouted Evison as soon as the boat was spotted, and we put the
Orion
’s cutter over the side and rowed over. What could have happened to these people? They all looked shocked and bedraggled. The child and one of the men were wrapped in blankets. We towed their boat alongside and hauled them up. It was a novelty to see these new faces after so long at sea with the same people. Lizzie and Bel were up on deck and went at once to assist the ailing members of the party.

Evison came over. He spoke sharply. ‘Two of you are feverish. Why are you adrift at sea?’

‘Our ship was attacked by a privateer,’ said one of the men. ‘As passengers we demanded to be put over the side and allowed to escape. My companion and the child became ill while we drifted at sea awaiting rescue.’

The man was ill at ease, and would look no one in the eye. Evison was swift to smell a rat. ‘No captain would give up one of his boats before a battle, nor set four of his passengers on to a vessel none of them knew how to handle. Tell me why you are adrift here, or you’ll return to your boat forthwith.’

The man began to huff and puff. ‘You doubt my word, sir? I’ll have no man speak to me so insolently!’ For a second I thought he was going to strike the Captain. I was glad to see he did not carry a sword.

Evison was unimpressed. ‘I’m Captain of this ship, and while you’re on my vessel, I’ll talk to you how I like.’

But the man would not be cowed. ‘We are travelling to visit Lord Hatherley in Salisbury and I’m sure he will be most displeased to hear of our disgraceful reception.’

Evison grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him over to the rail. ‘Are you a good swimmer, sir? You’ll need to be to reach the shore. Now tell me why you are adrift …’

The woman suddenly spoke up. ‘Tell them, Burnley. It is wicked not to.’

The man spat his words towards her. ‘I shall not be a party to my own destruction. You tell them, and you take the consequences.’

We stood agog, waiting to hear what she would say.

The woman looked up and spoke in a quiet, firm voice.

‘It is true we were travelling by sea to visit Lord Hatherley. But a number of the crew were stricken by smallpox soon after we left Poole. The Captain is in the employ of Lord Hatherley, which is why we managed to persuade him to set us off so as to escape the disease.’

Watching her talk, I could imagine the arguments that had gone on in the boat as we sailed towards them and I admired her courage. She went on, her voice faltering in her distress.

‘Alas, for my son, and Mr Curzon here, we appear to have left too late. I am sorry we have burdened you with our troubles.’

These words were like a curse. Everyone moved away from the castaways as she spoke. Lizzie and Bel silently and gently laid their patients down on the deck.

Evison spoke in a tone that invited no discussion. ‘You will return to your boat at once, all four of you. My men will tow you to the shore, and there you must seek assistance.’

‘But that is outrageous,’ said the man. ‘The child is especially weak. You are killing him.’

‘You, Mr Burnley, are trying my patience. If any of my crew or passengers contract this illness, I shall hold you responsible. Now leave my ship before I put a pistol to your head.’

They clambered back in the boat, the woman clutching the child, the man holding on to his companion. Evison turned to the girls. ‘Miss Borrow and Miss Sparke, you will go at once to your cabin and wait there until I say. You will touch no one nor stop to speak to them. For the moment you are under quarantine.’

They went, moving in a shocked and distraught way, and everyone hurried away from them as if they were lepers. Bel turned to me and I saw a haunted, pleading look in her eyes.

All hands were summoned on deck. ‘Our visitors were infected with the smallpox,’ said Evison. ‘Those of you who have had this disease or who have been inoculated against it will gather on the starboard side. Those
of you who have had neither the illness nor the inoculation will gather on the larboard side.’

It was a tense moment. I was relieved to see that most of the crew joined Richard and me on the starboard side, including those who had helped the castaways on board. Only a handful went to larboard.

‘You men on the larboard side will confine yourselves to the larboard crew cabin in the bow. There’s little risk you’ll contract the disease, but I don’t want to take any chances. I shall inform you as soon as I feel it is safe for you to join the rest of the crew.’

I said to Richard, ‘What’s going to happen to Bel and Lizzie?’

He shook his head. Then he said, ‘They might be lucky. They might not get it. They should have been more careful.’

‘When did you have your inoculation?’ I asked.

‘I didn’t,’ said Richard. ‘I had what they call variolation. It’s like inoculation only more dangerous. It’s pretty barbaric. They blow dried smallpox scabs up your nose. They say one in fifteen die from it. But in Boston one in four die from smallpox, so it’s worth the risk.’

Smallpox had visited my family when I was six. No sooner had the outbreak touched Wroxham than Tom and I were sent to our friends in Lowestoft. My two little brothers were too young to travel – both could barely walk and my mother was convinced she could
keep them safe. She was wrong; they both died. My mother said their little bodies had been covered in horrible pus-filled spots. Soon after, our village parson told my parents he was to be visited by a physician called William Woodville, who would bring with him a cure. We two boys, and several others in Wroxham, were inoculated.

The crew of the
Orion
were edgy. They began to talk about what this evil disease had done to their loved ones and friends. ‘The speckled monster,’ said William Bedlington. ‘It’s an affliction to make the devil proud. My mother caught it and the spots all joined together and her whole body were one mass of suppurating poison. She died quick but some linger for days. It’s a cruel malady.’

Richard and I went to talk to the Captain. ‘What will happen to Miss Borrow and Miss Sparke?’ I said.

Evison sighed. ‘We don’t know yet whether they’ll fall ill. Sometimes the smallpox carries and sometimes it doesn’t.’

Then he shook his head. ‘Look, I’ve had several of the crew come and tell me the girls should be cast adrift in one of the boats. I know they both swim, and they could row to shore, especially if you and Richard took them, but it’s not right abandoning them like that. I think we should keep them here to look after them. Mrs Evison and myself have both had the smallpox. She’s offered to
care for the girls if they fall victim to it.’

I felt a surge of gratitude to Mrs Evison. She had been the butt of our jokes for much of the voyage and none of us had liked her much, but she had a good heart. ‘They’ll stay in their cabin, ’til the illness develops or we know for certain it’s passed.’

‘Can we go and talk to them?’ said Richard.

‘No,’ said Evison. ‘You might spread the disease yourself if they have it.’

‘Can we write to them?’ I said. ‘Keep their spirits up?’

‘Yes, but you’ll have nothing back from them. If the disease spreads, we’ll be quarantined for months when we get to London.’

After several days, the girls were bored and Mrs Evison persuaded the Captain to let us go and talk to them through the door. ‘You can’t see them face to face. Don’t get close.’

Mrs Evison stood at the door. Richard and I stood behind a rope she had placed on the deck, beyond which we were forbidden to step. ‘How are you both?’ I asked.

‘We’re worried,’ said Bel. ‘Neither of us has had the smallpox or the inoculation.’

‘I often asked my mother if we could be treated,’ said Lizzie, ‘but her sister had her family variolated and two of the children died. I wondered if the problem lay with the physician and his method rather than the process
itself, but Mama would not be persuaded. Now here we are in this terrible limbo, waiting for the signs …’

‘My father wouldn’t hear of it,’ said Bel. ‘“I’m not having that mumbo-jumbo. It’s not natural.” I tried to get it done myself, but I never had enough money to pay for it.’

‘Don’t worry about us,’ said Lizzie, sounding like she was about to burst into tears. ‘We’ve got a porthole in our cabin and our books and each other for company. And Mrs Evison is bringing us our meals and everything is going to be fine.’

All we could do was wait and see.

Later that day we spoke to Captain Evison. He talked about the disease – almost as if he were a physician. ‘I can’t afford a surgeon for most of my voyages, so I’ve learned the hard way how to treat them who fall ill.’

‘We need to wait two weeks. If the girls do sicken, then they’ll have a fever then a rash. The rash’ll spread and blisters’ll form. If that happens the girls will be too ill to walk and even talk. That’s when we find out if they live or die. There’s one in three who get it die. And those that survive are often badly scarred.’

I could see he had the scarring himself. ‘Sometimes, the scars are mercifully slight. Sometimes they’re worse.’

As we sailed along the south coast of England, time seemed to slow down. If we felt like that, occupied in
our work, how much slower the time must be passing for Lizzie and Bel, when they would fear every twinge of nausea or headache.

‘Could we let them have Sydney for company?’ I asked the Captain. ‘They could teach him some new words?’ He shook his head.

‘Mrs Evison has got enough on her plate without having to clean up after that bird. And if the girls do get ill, the creature’s squawking will only add to their torment.’

We visited when Mrs Evison allowed, but standing at a safe distance while she stood by the door did not make for flowing conversation. The girls were now sunk in deep lethargy. ‘I never realised how long you could sleep during the day,’ said Bel. ‘Yesterday I slept for most of the morning and half the afternoon and then most of the night. Now I’ve woken with a crushing headache.’

A tight little knot twisted in my stomach. ‘You need some fresh air,’ I thought, but it seemed such impractical advice I said nothing at all.

Next day Mrs Evison opened the door a crack when we came. I could tell at once from the look on her face that something had happened. ‘The girls have taken bad,’ she whispered. ‘Both of them have a fever. Don’t come back until the Captain tells you it’s safe.’

Richard and I both went to sit at the fo’c’sle. ‘Could be anything,’ he said. ‘Could be some of the swill they’ve had to eat.’ We had not taken on fresh supplies since Cape Town.

‘Then let us pray that’s what ails them – that and lack
of fresh air and exercise.’

The Captain kept us informed. ‘It’s smallpox for sure. Mrs Evison and I have seen enough cases to know.’

First there was the raging fever. Then came the rash. Then both girls hovered in and out of consciousness. Then came the boils.

‘But don’t give up hope, boys,’ said Evison. ‘I’ve seen this illness at its worst. It’s not flat black pox, and it’s not the haemorrhagic pox, thank the Lord. Both of them are guaranteed to kill.’

‘What the hell are those?’ said Richard. I didn’t want to know.

Evison explained. ‘The first turns the skin black, then it’s shed, like a snake or lizard. The other one’s even worse. Black blood oozes from every orifice.’

We gave him two more letters. ‘Keep them, lads,’ said Evison. ‘The girls can’t even understand simple conversation right now.’

‘Can anything be done to ease their suffering?’ asked Richard.

‘Mrs Evison is doing everything she can,’ said the Captain. ‘She’s sponging them down with wet towels, and treating them with the steam inhalation when they are conscious and lucid. We have boracic lotion for the eyes and borax for the mouth, to lessen the effects of the blisters in those tender regions.’

‘How long does this stage last?’ I asked.

‘We shall know the worst of it by the end of the week.’

By now we had rounded Broadstairs and Margate and were sailing up to the Thames estuary. The men who had not been inoculated were released from their cabin. No one else had contracted the disease.

Evison announced we would head for Chatham where the ship would be held in quarantine for several weeks until the authorities were sure the outbreak had run its course. What should have been a joyous homecoming was turning into a nightmare.