The Plight of the Hawthorne

I saw it first. A ship on the distant horizon, barely more than a smudge against the merging blues of sky and sea.

“Ma! Ma! It’s here! Pa’s ship is here!” I hollered as I ran down from the clifftops towards the town. I was panting by the time I reached the small main street, with its cobbled road leading towards the market square and beyond that the harbor.

“A ship, A ship is coming!” I called out to every passerby, ignoring the stitch in my side, so excited to share the good news.

Yet nobody else seemed happy about it. Big Jim, the grocer, started packing up his cabbages and turnips, muttering to his children to ready his donkey cart. Old Mrs. Coulson pulled her black shawl tighter around her, kissing the cross that she wore beneath her widow’s weeds.

A bell tolled from the church tower, not the cheery ding-dong of a wedding, but a heavy, solemn sound. An alarum bell. The whole town seemed on edge, adults whispering in doorways, children scurrying home to their mothers.

I burst through the low doorway of my own home slightly outside of town, where the fisherfolk lived. I slammed it closed, sending a small cloud of dust up from the wattle walls. Ma was by the fireplace, stirring a large pot of pease pottage. She frowned as I ran in.

“Where’s the coneys, child? I thought you were about emptying the traps? Tha’s not goin’ to have much supper without them.”

“Sorry, Ma. I saw the ship! From the cliffs – about half a day away. Pa’s after comin’ home!”

She smiled, wiping her hands on her apron and standing up straight.

“I hope tha’s right, chook. ‘Tis long overdue, and I’ll be right glad to see his face agin.”

“Will he bring gifts, Ma? Will he remember the lace for my Sunday dress, and sugar mice?”

She hugged me tightly, and I closed my eyes, enjoying her familiar scent of lavender and sweat.

“I hope so, you bairns deserve a treat.” She kissed the top of my head, then held me at arms-length. “What are you blatherin’ away here for? Go back and fetch those coneys, tha knows your Pa will want meat after so long at sea.”

I headed back through town towards the clifftops where our snares were set, and passed several carts piled high with furniture, chairs tied on top of heavier chests as the families gathered their belongings.

“Where are you going?” I asked Tommy, a friend of my brother’s who was usually down by the shore at this time of day, crabbing with stale bread on a line.

“We’re moving to my Aunt’s in the country. Didn’t you hear? There’s a ship a comin’. It’s not safe here anymore.”

“That’s my Da’s ship. Why wouldn’t it be safe?” I asked him, but his Ma grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards the house to fetch more stuff. She looked at me with worried eyes, and reached into her apron for an apple.

“Here, child. Tha looks hungry. Give yer Ma our love, and tell her she’s in our prayers.” She turned and hurried back inside, shutting the door behind her.

I continued on up the hill, munching on the apple, enjoying the tartness as the juice filled my mouth. It was a perfect day, the sun shining through the clouds like a blessing from the heavens. The breeze was strong up on the clifftops, and heading inland, so I knew the ship would make good time. With luck, Da would be home for supper.

Our traps caught 4 decent-sized rabbits and one hare. I slit their bellies open, removing the entrails and tossing them over the cliffs for the fish. The ship was closer now, I could see the topsails billowing in the strong headwind. One of the masts looked damaged, the sails ragged and hanging limply down. I frowned, wondering why the sailors hadn’t taken down the damaged sails, or attempted to fix the mast. I tried to imagine what had happened to them, making myself shudder as I imagined a giant sea monster rising up, its tentacles wrapping around the ship while my Pa valiantly hacked at its limbs, shouting orders to his crewmates.

Or perhaps they had been boarded by pirates! Pa said they were bringing back expensive spices, nutmeg and ginger for the King and Queen, and Italian glassware. Ma had asked him to bring her a goblet for herself, something she could place on the table and fill with wildflowers while he was away. I hoped the pirates hadn’t stolen it, or my sugar mice.

Walking back through town was hard work, the brace of coneys heavy over my shoulder. I stopped by the pie shop, hoping to trade my fattest catch for a sweetmeat pie, but it was shut up, the shelves empty inside. The streets were quiet, too – none of the normal bustle and chatter, no marketeers yelling their wares, no tinkers pushing carts, tin plates and tankards rattling as they bumped over the cobbles. I passed Tom’s house, the front door was nailed shut.

Ma was waiting for me outside when I got back. She took the brace off me, hanging them up in the cool pantry. She was dressed in her Sunday clothes, her bonnet decorated with cornflowers from the garden. She smelled of roses, and I knew she must have used her precious scented oil that she saved for special occasions. She had Mary and baby Jimmy all dressed up too, and the house was cleaner than normal, the table shiny with beeswax and the scent of crushed sage in the fresh hay on the floor. She ushered me through to the garden, washing me face and scrubbing my arms and feet in cold water. I was ordered into my green woolen dress, the one that itched a bit and was tight under the arms. Ma plaited my hair and let me wear her green ribbons that she kept in her trinket box with other gifts Da had brought for her over the years. We were ready to welcome him home.

Down by the harbor a large group of dockers had gathered. They sat on the thick stone walls, smoking pipes and arguing. The harbormaster was there too, his smart navy jacket gleaming with brass buttons and braid.

“Listen men, I know tha’art concerned. The fact is, this is no foreign schooner, it’s our own lads, comin’ home after eighteen months abroad. We canna leave them out at sea, they belong here, with their families.”

A large, burly man with a black beard spat on the ground. “It’s arright for some, livin’ in their fancy houses outta town. Tha knows ye’ll be safer there. It’s us what will suffer if we let them land, I seen it with ma own eyes down in Hartlepool. Whole town’s closed off now, they’re burnin’ bodies in the streets, bairns dyin’ in their Mother’s arms! It’s no right, Sir.”

“I know, I know Callum. And if t’were any other ship, I’d be with ye on the matter. But these lads are our own, our sons and fathers for gawd’s sake, and if we leave ‘em out there they’ll surely perish.”

The arguing continued, and Ma led us away from the crowd, to sit on the end of the curving sea wall. She held baby Jimmy tightly, and he squawked in protest. The ship was almost here now, the maiden carved onto the prow forging her way boldly through the waves towards us. I thought I could make out the men up on the deck, but they were too far away to make out their faces. I hoped Da would wave a hankie when he saw us, like the last time. But as the ship pulled in towards the shore, there was nobody waving from it.

The men had taken a rowboat out to meet the ship, blocking its entry into the port. I saw the man with the beard, Callum, standing at the front, calling out to the crew of the Hawthorne. They were too far away to hear, their voices carried off by the wind. The men in the rowboat seemed to be bickering again, finally they pulled the boat up against the side of the great ship, sending a young man with flame-red hair up on a rope ladder to board the Hawthorne.

I was growing impatient, today seemed to pass so slowly, and I longed to feel my Pa whirl me up into the air in his strong arms. I left the sea wall and started picking flowers, speedwell, daisies, and buttercups to put in the goblet Da was bringing home for Ma.

There was a big commotion at the ship now. It looked like the young man with his carroty hair was screaming, waving his arms madly about as he rushed for the ladder. The rowboat was pulling away from the ship, the men rowing hard as they headed back towards the harbor. They’d left their man behind, and he dangled from the rope ladder, cursing at them, one fist raised up in anger. I wondered what on earth he was so mad about. I crept on over to the group of dockers to hear more.

The boat pulled in against the harbor wall, the men rushing to secure it and get away from the water.

“What is it? What did young Billy there see?” The Harbormaster demanded, puffing his chest out like a stuffed pheasant.

“Tis plague sir, just like we was thinkin’ t’would be. There’s bodies all o’er the deck, all swoled up and black with pustules and sores all over ‘em, poor souls. The air was right thick with flies, and the smell! Dear God, the smell so foul it fair turned our stomachs. We sent young Billy up to see afore we realized. He went down in the hold, and said as the men what was still alive weren’t much better off than them as laid out above. A moanin’ and groanin’, they were, we could hear ‘em from the boat below, cryin’ for water and for their Mamas.”

“How terrible! Were there none left untouched?”

“The first mate seemed fine, leastways, no sign of plague about him. T'was he that steered ‘em in. But was plain to see his mind was broken, Sir. He was laughin’ at us! Laughin’ fit to bust, he was. Poor Billy tried to come back down, but of course, we couldn’t let ‘im back on board, not with ‘im being among all those bodies.”

“No, of course not. No, you did the right thing, Callum. The ship is lost to us, better for them all if a storm takes them.” The Harbor Master walked away from the men, heading for my Ma and brothers. I trailed behind, the flowers wilting in my hand as if they too knew the tragedy of this day.

He placed his hand on Ma’s shoulder, taking his hat off as he broke the news to her. She let out a howl that echoed around the harbor, piercing the hearts of all who heard it. My brothers were sobbing too, clinging to her skirts, wide-eyed with fear as our strong, proud Ma broke before our eyes. I wanted to cry myself, felt the tears stinging my eyes, but I brushed them aside angrily. It wasn’t fair! We’d waited so long, and Pa was so close… perhaps not dead yet, lying in his own filth calling our names from his berth. It wasn’t right! Why wouldn’t the adults row out there and save him? What were they all so afraid of?

Suddenly, there came a scream from the men.

There, swimming towards shore, were the ship rats. The water rippled with their dark, furry bodies, hundreds of them, all with one single-minded goal – to reach land.