Dusk was falling as the coach carrying Annie and Henry, along with three other passengers, clattered through the periphery of Hull. Though it was only a few short years since she had lived there, she was amazed at the change. Where once had been green meadows outside the town, there were long streets of elegant houses, and in the town itself as the coach drew towards the Market Place, changes had been made. Gone was the old gaol and guardhouse; finished and consecrated was the new St John’s church. Old buildings had been demolished, and flagstones laid in the new streets instead of cobbles.
Yet still there were signs of poverty; children were still begging in the streets and the haggard faces of the poor showed their desperate situation as they milled around the Market Place. She felt, as she descended from the coach that there was an undercurrent of discontent waiting to flare.
She hid a wry smile as she entered the Cross Keys Inn where a room had been booked. How often she had been in here, but not dressed as she was now in her travelling habit of grey beneath her much loved black woollen cloak, a white lawn shirt and leather laced boots. Nor did she then wear a tall beaver hat as she did today. Then, she had worn whatever cast-offs she could beg and dressed them up with feathers and bits of lace, for she had always hankered for finery.
The landlord greeted the passengers who were staying overnight and she wondered if he would recognize her, for she had once been a regular customer along with Francis Morton.
But he didn’t. He wiped his fingers on his apron and greeted her courteously and called for the maid to show her to her room.
If tha’s taking a walk to stretch tha legs, ma’am, take care.’ He called to her as she mounted the stairs. ‘There’s an ugly mood in ’town.’
‘What’s happening?’
‘Oh, usual complaint, ma’am,’ he said cynically. ‘Folks complaining that they’re starving – no money to buy food – but nowt for thee to worry about. Just keep away from ’crowds if tha goes out and keep hold of bairn’s hand; press-men are in town and there might be trouble. Nobody likes them.’
They took a short walk down to the Market Place, Annie wanted to show Henry the gold statue of King William III, or King Billy as the townspeople called him, as he sat on his horse in the middle of the road, but there were pockets of people standing around who were shouting abuse at a company of soldiers who were riding past and they couldn’t get near. Two men were fighting round a street corner and while some others kept watch for the law, another group shouted encouragement at the participants.
Annie smiled a wide smile and Henry looked up and asked. ‘Why you laugh, Mamma?’
She squeezeed his hand. ‘I’m laughing to think that some things never change, Henry. Come, we’ll go back for supper and an early night, then tomorrow I’ll take you to see the big ships in the dock before we ride to Hessle.’
The landlord sent supper up to their room. ‘Too noisy downstairs, ma’am. Two whaling ships came in today and ’men are celebrating. Things might get out of hand. Best stay in tha room.’
She was tempted to question him on the names of the ships and the company who owned them, but on second thoughts decided against it. No sense in arousing his suspicions, she thought, and later as she lay in her bed with a sleeping Henry at her side, wondered if any jolt of memory might remind the landlord of who she was, or remember her bullying husband who’d died in the Arctic, or even worse, recall the death of Francis Morton.
For they must have found him, she thought, even though the mud was deep. They’d find him with the knife embedded in his chest. She sat up in the bed, her hand over her mouth. She’d never felt remorse for what she had done and yet, now she was back in the town where it had happened, in the very streets where she had roamed barefoot to save her boots, searching for cheap food to feed her children, she felt something like penitence.
‘I’m sorry, Francis, if tha’s listening anywhere.’ She whispered in the darkness and watched wide-eyed as the candle flame flickered in a draught and sent quivering shadows across the ceiling. Outside the inn she could hear shouting and the sound of breaking glass. ‘I know that what I did was wicked, but you were more wicked than me. Tha was going to hurt my bairn, my poor Lizzie.’
She looked down at Henry and moved a strand of fair hair from across his chubby pink cheek and knew in her heart that if anyone should attempt to hurt this child then she would do the same again.
Sleep deserted her and she slipped out of bed and looked out of the window. Outside the inn an affray had broken out between gangs of men. They were shouting and cursing and in the scuffle she saw the flash of a drawn cutlass and the raising of cudgels. She closed the shutters to muffle the noise and climbed back into bed and stared with sleepless eyes into the darkness.
In the hour before dawn she got up once more and looked down at the now quiet street. The only movement was from the muffled and bent figures of the night-soil-men with their odorous baskets, which as she watched they shouldered into the carts on their way to the muckgarths outside the town.
The next morning she woke heavy-eyed and could have slept on but Henry was awake and anxious to be off to see the ships.
‘There was trouble last night all right.’ The landlord served them first with gruel, then brought a platter of ham and boiled fowl and sausages, and a seperate plate of eggs made into an omelette. ‘Will tha have ale to drink, ma’am, or milk?’
‘I prefer to take tea – or chocolate.’ She smiled, revelling in being able to use the phrase which Toby had taught her. ‘And milk for the child.’
‘Aye, a heap of trouble,’ he gossiped. ‘It’s a wonder ’noise didn’t keep thee awake. Press-men were outside waiting to catch ’seamen. There were a few fights I can tell thee and plenty of clearing up to do this morning.’
As they went outside she saw the results of the disorderly and violent night. Market stalls had been overturned and produce trampled on. A wooden cart had been set on fire and was black and smouldering, whilst nearby a lone donkey munched from a basket of carrots. Glass and bricks littered the street and amongst the rubbish, women with torn and tattered clothing and children by their sides, poked about looking for something to eat or sell. Lying in the road in a sticky brown pool, the overflow from a brimming muck cart, was the still form of a man, either drunk or dead, and by his side a dead cat.
‘Aye,’ Annie stood in the inn doorway holding Henry’s hand, and surveyed the scene. ‘Nothing changes.’
She wanted to get away, to sit astride the horse she had hired, with Henry in front of her and ride away from this town and its memories. But she had promised him that he could see the ships in the dock, and from first rising he had constantly asked when would they go.
There were a great number of soldiers about, both the regular troopers, cavalry and infantry, and the militia, and they were all heading in the same direction, towards the dock. The New Dock, built to replace the Old Harbour and which was always crowded with shipping from every corner of the world.
Lines of men were being marched towards the dock, some holding their heads as if they were in pain, others openly weeping and she guessed that these were the pressed men, on their way to join the naval ships. Women were running by their sides, some crying, others clinging to the naval officers’ coats, imploring them to let their men free.
‘Excuse me. Can we come through.’ She elbowed her way through the crowd. ‘We want to see the ships.’
‘I shouldn’t go over there, miss – ma’am. There’s too great a crush. Are you looking for somebody.’ A young naval lieutenant spoke to her.
‘I promised my son he could see the ships, but we can’t get near.’
‘Like ships do you, young man?’ The officer bent down to Henry and ruffled his hair. ‘Perhaps you’ll join the King’s navy when you’re big enough?’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Annie’s rejoinder came swiftly though she smiled amiably enough. ‘I’ll not have my son sailing to a watery grave.’ Then she shivered as the words were out, as if in premonition.
‘If you come with me, I’ll find you a space.’ He made a way through the crowd, still talking to Henry. ‘You’ll be able to see from over here, there are whalers and schooners, cutters and sloops, every kind of ship from all over the world.’
He found them a space near a group of men who were sitting on the ground near the edge of the dock. ‘Don’t go too near the edge.’ He smiled at Henry. ‘He’s a fine boy, ma’am. I have two of my own. I haven’t seen them for two years. I can hardly remember what they look like.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Annie began, but he saluted her and turned away.
There was a gusty wind blowing and Annie took off her hat for fear of losing it in the water. She pointed towards the dock. ‘Look, there’s a whaling ship, Henry. See how well the hull is built? That’s because it has to break through the ice. And those small boats hanging at the side are what the men use to row out from the ship to capture the whale.’
‘These men here?’ Henry turned to look at the men sitting near them. ‘Are they going to row out and catch the whale?’
There was general laughter and one man answered. ‘No, son. We’re going to row out and capture the enemy, whoever that might be.’
Annie turned away from the sight of the ships and smiled sympathetically. She felt sorry for these men. They may well have had regular work and a home and family, but now they were in the hands of the navy, whether they liked it or not.
From the corner of her eye she saw a fair-haired man rise slowly to his feet and stare in her direction. ‘Here you!’ A soldier called to him. ‘Sit down.’
She turned to face the man as ignoring the command he strode over the men sitting on the ground, and came towards her.
It was as if the world stood still. As if time had taken a deep breath and was suspended. They both gazed, one at the other and didn’t speak. Then a veil of uncertainty showed in his eyes, to be replaced immediately by a flash of tempestuous fire.
‘So, Mrs Hope. We meet once more.’ His voice was cold though it trembled.
Oh, Matt! He’s hurt, she thought and felt hot tears gathering behind her eyelids. And he’s angry with me, just like he used to be. He doesn’t want to show that he once cared.
‘Indeed we do, Captain Linton,’ she answered softly.
Matt gave a harsh laugh. ‘Not Captain Linton any more, I fear. Just a common sailor in the navy.’
‘You’ve been pressed!’ Distress made her raise her voice. ‘Oh, no.’
‘Thank you for your sympathy, but it’s of no matter. One ship is very like any other.’ He continued to gaze at her and she wanted to put out her arms and hold him close to her.
‘That isn’t true. I know how you feel about the Breeze. It’s what you most care about.’
‘Is that what you think?’ he asked in a bitter tone. ‘You think I care only for tree trunks and sailcloth?’ He gave a wry laugh which twisted his mouth but didn’t reach his eyes. ‘How little you know of me.’
She fell silent and hung her head. Perhaps then she had made a mistake, one that she would pay for forever. And now it was too late.
Henry had crouched down on his haunches and was playing at throwing pebbles with one of the men in the crowd, and she put out her hand to draw him towards her.
Matt drew in a sudden intake of breath as she stood the boy beside her.
‘This is my son, Matt.’ She saw his eyes glisten and the tears held back in her own eyes, spilled over.
He bent down and smiled at the boy and shook him by the hand. Then he ran his hand over his Henry’s head and stood up, keeping his hand on his shoulder.
‘And mine too, I think.’
She took a step towards him and he put out his arms and wrapped her within them. She felt the strength of them around her and started to sob. She had never thought to hold him again, to feel the softness of his fair beard against her face, to smell the sea in his hair.
He kissed her. A tender loving kiss which told her all she wanted to know, and from somewhere in the background, she could hear the cheers of men around them and felt Henry pulling on her skirt.
‘Come on now. Break it up. Break it up!’ A soldier on guard came towards them.
‘This is my guard,’ Matt said and kissed her wet cheeks. ‘He’s afraid I’ll run away before Roxton gets back.’
‘Roxton?’ she breathed. ‘What has he to do with this?’
Matt laughed. All signs of strain had gone from his face and he looked quite merry. He kept his arm around her.
‘The Customs and the navy are fighting over who should have me, we’re waiting for the magistrate to get out of bed and decide for them. And in the meantime, this poor fellow has charge of me, me and this blackguard of a parson who insists on staying with me.’
She glanced down at the man sitting almost at her feet and recognized the seaman with the eyepatch who had conducted Toby’s burial and warned her of the dangers in the town when he had rowed her to shore from the Breeze.
Parson White shook his head despondently. ‘Aye. I’m no good for anything. I’m a poor parson and an even poorer smuggler.’
Annie wiped away a tear and glanced at the soldier who was staring impassively at her. Sergeant Collins! Guarding Matt! For a moment, wild improbabilities raced through her mind. She would get him to turn his back while she spirited Matt away.
Then she remembered the kind of man that Sergeant Collins was. If he could give up Lily, whom she was sure he loved, because of his honourable regard for the wife he never saw, then he wouldn’t risk his life or career for a pressed man.
She looked around her. Besides, there were too many other soldiers and navy men around. They wouldn’t hesitate to fire their muskets or pistols if they saw a man escaping.
‘I know this soldier,’ she said simply. ‘He helped me once when Toby was killed.’
Matt’s eyes flashed as he remembered. ‘One of your men was it, who killed him?’
Sergeant Collins nodded. ‘Aye. A lad of sixteen drafted into the army from gaol where he’d been sent for stealing bread. He hardly knew one end of a musket from the other. He fired because he was frightened.’ His voice was matter-of-fact. ‘Perhaps you don’t know about fear, captain. But young soldiers do. They know what it’s like when their bowels turn to water and their legs tremble beneath them. But he was punished for disobeying orders and letting the smugglers get away. He’d hardly any skin left on his back by the time they’d finished.’
‘But why was he so afraid? We wouldn’t have hurt him. Not Toby or me.’ Annie was aghast that the young soldier should have suffered.
‘It’s a game you’ve been playing, Mrs Hope.’ Sergeant Collins drew closer and addressed them quietly. ‘Both of ye, and your dead brother, sir. It’s just been sport to ye, avoiding the law, never getting caught. But for some it’s more than that. I’ve seen my men shot at and beaten to a pulp by these law breakers. We’ve sat all night on a cliff top in the pouring rain because no-one, not a house nor hostelry would give us a bed for the night in case they got their windows smashed by their own kind the next morning. Just think about it next time you’re drinking run brandy or sipping duty-free tea; somebody might be paying for it with his life.’
He moved away from them to the edge of the crowd and they remained silent. Then Matt said quietly. ‘It’s true, all he says. I know that some of the men I meet are nothing more than ruffians; but then there are others who are trying to keep body and soul together by selling these run goods.’
He gathered her towards him again. ‘But let’s not talk of such things. Where I’m going there’ll be no brandy, no tobacco, no silk. Not in gaol or on the high seas.’ He squeezed her tight. ‘How can I bear to lose you, Annie, when I’ve only just found you again. I’ve searched and searched for you these last years. I’ve had people looking for you and no-one knew where you’d gone.’
He put his head against hers. ‘There were times when I thought you were dead.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you wouldn’t want me, not when I had a babby. I thought I’d be an embarrassment to you. I went to York. I work for a linen draper. We have a room above the shop, Henry and me.’
‘Henry?’ he asked, his brow creasing.
She nodded. ‘I gave him the name of the first man who was ever kind to me – Henry Trott – and your name: Matthias – his father’s name.’
‘Annie! You know don’t you, that I’ll have to stay with the navy? They need men with my background.’ He spoke softly and calmly. ‘The magistrate won’t let me rot in gaol when I can be usefully employed at sea. The sergeant was right when he said it was a game we were playing. Well the game is over. God knows I’ve no grudge against the French, at heart I’m a farmer, a landsman, but I’m in up to my neck now, and I’ll have to go.’
Her face crumpled with dismay. She might never see him again. Henry might lose the father he had never known.
‘Will you marry me, Annie? Will you give our son my name?’
She put her head against his chest and wept. ‘How can I marry you? I’m nobody. Just a woman from the gutter who has pulled herself out. That’s why I ran away. How can I marry a man like thee?’
He held her at arm’s length and contemplated her. ‘A woman from the gutter, a smuggler, a hawker, a Dutch widow, a draper, a mother. You have been all of these things, Annie; why can you not be a wife?’
He grinned. ‘A wife of a common seaman who’s just been pressed into the King’s navy!’
‘I have to tell you something first. You might not want to marry me then.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I ran away from Hull because I’d killed a man.’
He was silent for a moment and she felt a dreadful despair. He would reject her now. He was bound to.
‘He must have deserved it, Annie,’ he said softly and stroked her cheek. ‘You must have had a compelling reason. I want you for my wife, no matter what you have done.’
She searched for a piece of linen to wipe her nose and streaming eyes, but couldn’t find one and so put her arm up to her face and wiped it with her frilled sleeve.
Matt put his head back and laughed though his voice broke with emotion. ‘Oh, Annie. How wonderful you are. Don’t ever change.’
‘Begging your pardon, captain.’ Parson White stood by their side. ‘With my one bloodshot eye, I spy Roxton at the far end of the dock. If you were planning anything then it had better be soon.’
‘Planning anything? What do you mean, man? Have you got a pistol hidden beneath your hat and intend that I shoot the varmint?’
‘No sir, you know as well as anybody what a law-abiding fellow I am. No, what I was meaning sir, for I couldn’t help overhearing, was if you and the good lady were thinking of getting wed, then we’d better be sharp about it.’
‘How can we wed,’ Annie asked, her face pink and blotchy from crying. ‘We’ve had no banns read, no licence, and Roxton wouldn’t let us go to church, even though St Mary’s is just a step away.’
‘A step too far,’ Matt mused. ‘He wouldn’t allow it, nor would the navy.’
Parson White gave a huge sigh and tutted. Matt stared at him. ‘What are you suggesting—? You’re not suggesting—? You are suggesting that you should marry us?’
‘I was ordained to conduct marriages as well as burials,’ he boomed in a pontifical manner. ‘And though the church might have thrown me out, God knows where my heart is; and if you want me to bless the pair of you in His presence then I can do it here, as well as any other parson in a pulpit. With or without a magistrates licence,’ he added.
‘Will you be happy with that, Annie?’ Matt gazed seriously at her. ‘It might not be strictly legal, but it’s the best I can offer you until I return.’
They both knew that the words he uttered were only of hope. There was every possibility that he wouldn’t return.
She nodded, too overcome to speak, then she drew Henry, who had been contemplating both Matt and Parson White, towards them. ‘Henry.’ She swallowed and wiped her fingers across her eyes. ‘Henry. This is your father.’
The little boy raised his eyes and solomnly contemplated Matt and then smiled, his cheeks dimpling. Matt bent down and kissed him on both cheeks and Henry put his arms about his neck and hugged him.
‘I knew he was mine, the minute I saw him,’ Matt spoke in a choked voice. ‘Look at his smile, he’s got the same gap as both Toby and me.’
Annie patted the boy’s cheek and said huskily. ‘His milk teeth, Matt, all children have it.’
‘No matter, you’ll see when he’s grown—.’ He couldn’t finish the sentence and Annie held them both close, Matt and their son.
‘Now then, cap’n, – ma’am. We’d better get started if you’ve decided.’ Parson White’s voice broke in. ‘There’s not much time.’
‘I have nothing to give you, Annie! No token for you to remember me by.’
‘I have your son,’ she whispered.
He nodded, his eyes loving. ‘Wait.’ He put his hand to his ear, and took from it the gold ring which pierced it. ‘I have this, take it and wear it.’
She took the small gold ring and slipped it on her little finger; her hands were unadorned, she had never before had a ring. The only jewellery she possessed were the pearls which Matt had given her and which she always wore.
They stood side by side with Henry between them as Parson White conducted the unorthodox ceremony. The parson took off his hat and putting his hands together and closing his one eye, raised his head to the heavens.
Some of the pressed men who had been listening and watching with some interest, got to their feet when they realized that they were to be witnesses to a ceremony. They dusted themselves down or straightened their neckchiefs and pulled down the sleeves of their coats, and took off their caps and hats.
‘Dearly Beloved. We are gathered here today in the presence of the Almighty, who deems Himself to be in all places at all times wherever two or three are gathered in his name, to bear witness to the marriage of Captain Matthias Linton and Mrs Annie Hope.’
He opened his eye and raised an eyebrow at Annie.
She bit her lip. This was no place for lies and subterfuge. If God was listening, He would know. She leaned forward and whispered. ‘Swinburn. Annie Swinburn.’
Matt shook his head in amused admonishment, but she gave no answering smile. What if any of the men here remembered the name?
Parson White continued, ‘And the woman,’ he lowered his voice so that only Matt and Annie heard, ‘Annie Swinburn, better known as Hope.’
From the corner of her eye Annie could see Roxton approaching, Sergeant Collins had seen him too and stealthily moved away from the ceremony in the direction of the customs official.
Parson White had seen her glance away and he too looked over his shoulder, and proceeded in a faster tone.
‘If there is anyone here who would dare to object or give cause to say why these two people should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony in sight of God, then let him speak now.’
He glared dissuasively around, but there was not a sound from the men. Sergeant Collins was still in conversation with Roxton and Annie saw him put a restraining hand on his arm.
‘Then I now pronounce you man and wife.’
A cheer went up from the men and from the ranks of the army and navy who had joined the crowd, and hats flew into the air.
‘Now for a hymn,’ one of the men shouted. ‘Let’s have a bit of music to give them a good send off.’