What a sample of my babies?
(Ahem) Not waiting to be asked, like Mary Bennet at her piano....
The quayside at the Pool of London from where their transport, HMS Arabella was to depart was filled with a crush of humanity. The blue coats of the Royal Artillery and the bright scarlet of the 65th Regiment of Foot created a cheerful picture, not reflected in the faces of the men themselves. Nor in most of the women, whose tear-streaked cheeks indicated that they had not been selected by the ballot to accompany their men on the voyage. The names of the fortunate ten per cent of wives who were permitted to sail were announced this very morning, thereby preventing any last-minute desertion. The wretched women whose husbands were to depart alone embraced their men, weeping in despair. To their skirts clung children, wailing in fear at the general air of misery. Just as Ellen had done, so many years before, they had travelled with hope to the port of departure. And just as Ellen, again, they had to return to their homes or to the villages of their relatives who might support them through the anxious separation, and very possible bereavement. They knew well the toll that overseas posting took on the soldiers. And for many of the women, without family or friends, the separation meant penury, starvation or death.
The fortunate women, carrying babies, bags and boxes, small cages with cackling chickens, even cages containing a cat, climbed the gangplank with joyful steps. Whatever hardship their men would face, they would face also. Some of them appeared to be at an alarmingly late stage of pregnancy, and Susanna wondered however they would survive a difficult birth on board, should such an event occur. Others were evidently the poorest of the poor, mothers with small children clad in thin, ragged clothing, with almost no baggage. What would be their fate during the winter in Newfoundland? How would they survive the conditions with so little protection from the cold? Just now, though, the winter was something abstract, not a reality. They had no concept of the extreme conditions. They believed simply that they were the lucky ones who were accompanying their men. For them, what could ever go wrong when they had their protector?
The loading of the consigned goods now being completed, HMS Arabella was ready to sail on the next tide. The men voyaging without their wives and children leaned as far as possible over the ship’s side, clinging to their wives’ hands for as long as they were able. The women wept profusely, and even the stoic men were seen to be wiping their eyes. Many would never meet again. The fortunate ones watched from the deck as the ship slipped out on the sunset tide, bound for the west and who knew what, all in the name of duty.