Bound to Sarah Page 12

  Over the following day things got worse, death had invaded the stricken ship and people on board started dropping like flies. After a third night without sleep, and in a state of utter hopelessness, Sarah too was now completely exhausted. Sam was deteriorating fast, slipping in and out of consciousness. His listless frame seemed to have shrunk to almost nothing and was almost lifeless. The agonising groans from the sick, along with frustrated cries for help from the well, had all been replaced by a sombre tranquillity. In the stifling heat, all energy had been consumed and the survival of everyone on board was now down to one thing – typhus fever.

  The surgeon ordered that the dead be removed right away and thrown overboard, in order to clear the ship and stop the spread of the contagion. He could not afford to lose any more convicts, or he would lose too much money. He focused all his blame for the situation on the captain, towards whom he had developed a bitter hatred. It was his fault that he was now forced to have the bodies thrown overboard with such unseemly haste, giving no time for grieving loved ones to mourn their loss, but it would be he who would have to face the repercussions.

  Meanwhile, the captain still kept himself locked away in his quarters, only briefly appearing once in a while on the poop deck, and keeping his distance lest he catch the fatal disease himself. He had briefly felt shame at his own inaction, in a rare flash of self-awareness. How could he have let this happen? And why had he chosen not to take the surgeon’s advice? But he quickly shook off all responsibility, reassuring himself that he was a seaman, not a doctor, and any feelings of remorse for his lack of leadership were quickly removed by the good and ever faithful bottle of rum. But he still knew it was a disaster and that it could be the end of his career as a captain, but he would worry about that once they reached their destination. For now, his one ambition was to save his own skin and he felt safe enough locked in his quarters.

  The hours ticked by slowly and agonisingly. Sam had not moved, nor made a sound, for many hours and his breathing became shallow as his mother wept. She prayed desperately for her child to be spared, he was too young to die and she needed him in her search for his father, so that they could be a family again. She gently rocked him in her arms, sitting on the deck, softly humming his favourite lullaby. All of a sudden she noticed a flickering movement in his eyes and they slowly began to open. She rained down tears of joy as she looked into the once lively bright eyes, now robbed of all their sparkle, but she was overjoyed to see them once again.

  ‘Don’t leave me again, my little sweetheart,’ she whispered, choking back the tears.

  Sam looked up at her, his little face pinched with dehydration and exhaustion. With the little energy he was able to muster, he whimpered, ‘Mammy,’ and painfully dragged his hand up to touch her’s.

  ‘Yes, I’m here, baby,’ she smiled, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks and she drew his still, lifeless little body into her own and gently cradled him in her arms. His eyes were fixed on hers; his stare became vacant, as his life slipped away. He never quite made it to his fourth year.

  An hour had passed since the typhus had taken her darling boy, but she still refused to believe it and continued to hum his favourite lullaby, slowly rocking him in her arms. Surgeon Stuart eventually got round to examining Sam and was left with little choice. He could not make exceptions, even for the youngest on board, and he ordered the guards to dispose of his body overboard forthwith. Sarah reacted like a mad woman, screaming and scratching and kicking as they tried to prise the lifeless child from her arms.

  ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘You can’t take him! He’s my baby. Noooo!’

  The child was eventually dragged from Sarah’s arms by two very reluctant soldiers, and she slumped to the deck. She quickly got up but was forced back by the soldiers who tried their best to console her. The rest of the ship could only watch in silent horror. Sarah fell again to the floor, screaming for the tearful soldier to have mercy. Her son wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be … only sleeping. But the soldier was only obeying orders and there was no easy way of doing it. She watched the nightmare of her son’s tiny body being tossed overboard like an old discarded rag – no prayers, no ceremony, no dignity. Mary and Ellen came to try and comfort her, but Sarah collapsed to the deck. Two crewmen, eight children, six female convicts and two soldiers were also taken and thrown overboard along with Sam.

  The ruthless tactic eventually paid off and the Mary Jane was gradually rid of the fever and the rest of the ship nursed back to health. The captain decided that after almost three weeks of drifting in the doldrums, and that terrible spell of fever, they had no choice but to tow the ship with the lifeboats. He ordered some of the still healthy crew and sturdier prisoners to take to the boats and try and tow the ship to find wind.

  The female convicts had never done anything like that before and their hands quickly blistered, as the crewmen in charge demanded all their energy in the stifling heat. If there was any inkling of any of them catching the fever, it would be sweated out of them by long hours of arduous rowing. It took two lifeboats and two full days of rowing until they finally came across any breeze, to the enormous relief of everyone on board. The ship eventually settled back on track into a comfortable sail and the horrors of the fever blew away with the wind.

  The captain, thankful for the end of the trouble, now felt it was safer to move around the ship a little more. There was a grumbling resentment down in the decks from prisoners, crew and soldiers alike; all had nothing but contempt for him. Yet Surgeon Stuart had become the most hated man on board, though due, in a large part, to the captain’s incompetence. Though he was not completely innocent of the charges, his cold-hearted and ruthless treatment of the dead and dying had left deep scars and some of those affected were hell bent on retribution. His priority was to get the fever off the ship at all costs and that was what he did, showing little compassion to the grieving.

  That resentment was also directed at the captain, for ignoring all the warning signs. Although there was no threat of a mutiny, everywhere an underlying tension could be felt. The crew and soldiers were eager to get back at the authority of the ship, and a huge wedge had been driven between them. They manipulated the convict women into giving the officers a hard time, and encouraged them to despise the authority on the ship. They even organised a wager down in the prison section with the women – the first to knock Surgeon Stuart to the floor, with one punch, would win a bottle of rum.

  Betty Dolan would normally have been the first to take up the challenge, but she had never been known to be so subdued. The poor girl almost didn’t make it, and it would take her a while to make a full recovery. So Mary Burgess took up the challenge instead, having developed a hatred for the surgeon whilst witnessing his cold-hearted approach to all the suffering women, especially Sarah. During the outbreak she had offered her assistance to the doctor, knowing that there were too many patients for him to deal with, but she quickly grew tired of his obnoxious attitude towards her and the other prisoners alike. He had spoken to her as if she were nothing, so her desire for revenge had been festering for a while.

  She lay in wait for the doctor to arrive down in the ‘tween decks, never giving a second thought to the consequences of her actions. Even if she had, there were others who would gladly have taken her place. The moment arrived, when the surgeon came to check on the still recovering few. Mary steeled herself and took a deep breath, as he made his way up the main aisle of the prison. As he got closer, Mary came in range of delivering a good punch. Mustering up all her strength, she struck. The surgeon did not know what had hit him. The punch had landed right on the bridge of his nose, sending him to the floor dazed and confused. With a roar of delight from the ‘tween decks, Mary was declared a heroine. Sarah was not there to witness it, nor was she interested. She was lying inert in her bed, consumed with grief. No act of revenge would ever bring Sam back, much as she hated Surgeon Stuart.

  The shocked surgeon picked himself up with blood gushing from his nose.
Composing himself, he glared at Mary.

  ‘You stupid, stupid. woman! Do you suppose you won’t be punished for this?’ he said angrily.

  Only then did Mary give any thought to the consequences, but she kept up a brave face in defiance of him.

  ‘Ye deserved it,’ she answered bluntly.

  ‘Maybe, and now you deserve two dozen lashes and I shall certainly see that you get them.’ The surgeon kept his temper and taking a handkerchief to his nose removed himself from the prison section. He headed straight to the captain’s quarters, as two of the sentry guards arrested Mary. The captain was startled by the surgeon’s appearance, with a blood soaked handkerchief covering half his face.

  ‘One of those wretched prisoners has broken my nose. What do you propose to do about it?’ he demanded tersely.

  The captain jumped to his feet, maybe this was his chance to regain some respect and stamp his authority on the ship.

  ‘Right … erm, yes … enough is enough. I shall deal with this outrage myself. Where is the nasty little vixen?’ he asked, with unconvincing sternness.

  ‘I have had her apprehended, sir. She’s down on deck. You had better see to it that the little witch is severely punished, Captain. I shall not be humiliated like this.’

  ‘Indeed not, doctor. It is certainly high time some order was restored. Let us go and attend to it, shall we?’

  The two men made their way down to the main deck where Mary was being restrained by two guards. The captain ordered all the prisoners on deck, except the sick, to witness the punishment. When this had been accomplished, they all listened as the captain addressed them.

  ‘I have been far too lenient with you on board this ship, though I also know that many of you have suffered a great loss. But striking an officer will not be tolerated, and will not go without punishment, whether man or woman. Guards, fetch the triangle!’

  Three guards erected the three wooden stanchions into a tripod that stood about eight feet high. Seeing this, the reality of what was about to happen hit Mary, and she went into a panic. She started apologising abjectly to the surgeon, who turned away smugly. Then she appealed to the captain, begging not to be whipped.

  ‘Please don’t whip me, captain. I’ll never do it again. Please ‘ave mercy on me. Please don’t do it,’ she cried, as the guards strapped her wrists to the top of the triangle. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt no one, I don’t know what came over me. Please, I’m beggin’ ye,’ she continued desperately, humiliating herself in front of everyone.

  The captain gave the order and the guards ripped down the top of her dress and left it dangling at the waist, revealing her breasts to all who looked on. Mary’s daughter Nell cried hysterically and begged for her to be spared, but it was no good. The captain ordered the highest ranking soldier to administer the punishment, but he was reluctant to do so; it was rare to see a female convict whipped, unless her crime was extremely severe.

  ‘Right, let two dozen lashes commence, Lieutenant Stuart,’ he ordered.

  The surgeon was in attendance, still holding his nose with a handkerchief, and nodded that he was ready. The soldier took up the Cat O’Nine Tails in his hand, and showing mercy to the poor woman, took the whip to Mary’s back as lightly as he could.

  ‘By the Lord, you will not show her any mercy, sir, or I’ll have you flogged as well!’ barked the captain from the quarter deck.

  Mary was already cowering in agony after the first strike and now the soldier had no choice but to use more force. After five blows her back started to bleed, the blood soaking into her torn dress. Her screams pierced the silence, as the crowd looked on, cringing at every lash, and were echoed by those of her daughter, as her mother’s blood splashed her face and mingled with her tears. Ellen tried to console her while the heartbroken child repeatedly pleaded for mercy, but to no avail.

  At eighteen lashes, Mary fainted, and a bucket of water was thrown over her to revive her and she was given five minutes’ respite. Then, after only four more lashes, she fainted again. For the sake of two more lashes, she was allowed more time to recover. When she was able to stand again, they issued the last two lashes, by which time she was ashen from shock and exhaustion. The captain and surgeon were fully satisfied with the punishment and suffered not a pang of guilt between them, but the crew and prisoners felt shamed by the ordeal they had been forced to witness, for it was they who had encouraged the bet and egged Mary on. Needless to say, she was on her stomach for the next two weeks in the hospital section. When she finally returned to her bed, she was given more rum than she could drink.

  Ellen Davis and her daughter Annie had been extremely lucky. Like a few others on board, they had not been affected by the fever, but Ellen lent her support in every way she could. She took care of Mary’s daughter while she was recovering in the hospital and comforted Sarah when she became inconsolable. For the first few weeks after Sam’s death, Nell would go to Sarah and ask her where he was. He had been her playmate and she missed him greatly, too young to understand the finality of death. The child’s innocence would always bring tears afresh to Sarah’s eyes.

  ‘Why is ye cryin’ Sarah?’ Nell asked softly. ‘Is Sam lost? Don’t worry, I’s gonna find ‘im and bring ‘im back and I’s gonna tell ‘im ‘e’s a naughty boy for makin’ his mammy cry.’ Sarah could not answer; she was too overcome with emotion, and just ran her fingers tenderly through Nell’s air then fell back into a deep and vacant stare.

  ‘Nell, stop tormentin’ Sarah, an’ go an’ play,’ Mary said, feeling embarrassed.

  ‘But I ‘aven’t got no one to play with, Mammy. I can’t find Sam anywhere,’ replied Nell.

  Eventually Nell would wander off round the prison section, trying to amuse herself. Then one day Nell ran up to Sarah quite excited. ‘Sarah, I know where Sam is. One of the women said ‘e’s gone to see Davey Jones. Let’s go an’ find ‘im an’ bring ‘im back,’ she said enthusiastically.

  It was such a hard time for Sarah, how could she or Mary explain to Nell that Sam was gone forever. So Sarah endured her innocent enquiries and investigations, until Nell’s memory of him started to fade from her mind.

  The ship never recovered its merriment during the last few months of its journey and only a limited few carried on without a care in the world. In an effort to boost the prisoners’ morale they were allowed on shore at Rio de Janeiro. For some, it seemed to work, but for others, like Sarah and Mary, their wounds were too deep to heal.

  CHAPTER 8

  COLD BLOODED MURDER

  Father McBride had visited Pat quite regularly in the hospital section over the two weeks he had been there. Amongst others things, they talked about God and faith, but Pat had admitted to the priest that he did not have much faith in God anymore,

  ‘I’ll not pray to ‘im another day,’ he said, disheartened and still in pain from his back. The priest tried his best to convince Pat otherwise, since that was his job, though it was probably the wrong time to encourage him.

  ‘I can understand how you feel, but you shouldn’t give up hope,’ he said soothingly.

  ‘The only hope I ever had was Sarah and Sam, an’ now I’ve been taken from them, and they’re left at home. I don’t even know how Sarah’s goin’ to cope, ‘avin’ to look after Sam when I’m not there to bring the money in.’ His melancholy mood deepened still further. ‘All me life I’ve been tormented. Me father used to beat me to a pulp, an’ to get away from that, I ran away an’ joined the army, where I had to kill people an’ watch people bein’ killed. I was only young, Father. At eighteen I fought in the Battle o’ Waterloo. Then just when I’m beginnin’ to think there might be a God, I end up in this hell.’

  ‘God loves us all, Pat, and we must try to love him back. Maybe you …’

  ‘Well, maybe I’m just not one of God’s chosen ones,’ Pat interrupted. ‘After all, Father, I’ve probably broken most of the commandments in me life, through no fault of me own. I s’pose I’m not good enough for God’s love.’r />
  The priest tried all he could to restore Pat’s faith, but began to realise that maybe it was the wrong time to be trying to force the issue. He thought it better to develop a friendship and listen to his frustrations, rather than to cause him more anguish by preaching to him.

  Young Tommy had become noticeably subdued, maybe as a result of the change in the atmosphere on board, or perhaps it was the climate. The heat down in the ‘tween decks had become insufferable, and the threat of fever constantly hung over the ship. Surgeon Gibson prayed for the sea breeze to stay with them, to keep the dreaded typhus away.

  For many of the convicts, the desire for female company was a very troubling one. Not knowing what to expect on their arrival in the colony, they had lost all hope of ever coming into contact with the opposite sex again. So aside from pleasuring themselves, finding a willing partner to assist was the order of the day. For those less scrupulous, there was always the option of forcing themselves on the vulnerable, to relieve their frustration. Then, as if the violation itself was not distressing enough, the victims would be left with the stigma of being a rape victim and be forced to suffer name calling at the hands of their abusers. These unfortunate victims had nowhere to turn and no one to help them in their despair.

  Morning had arrived and yet Tommy had not come to wake Joe, John, Charlie, or anyone else for that matter. This was the second day in a row that he had been seen moping about on his own and his friends had started to worry. Joe got up and went over to Tommy’s berth to give him a shake.