Chapter 8 Thomas Bennet and Mr. Miles meet whilst on a long trip.
Thomas Bennet and Mr. Miles meet whilst on a long trip.
Aboard the English vessel Valhalla,
En route from Portsmouth, England to Hamilton, Bermuda.
It was the third day of our voyage, and I was leaning against the ship’s rail taking in the sea air in hopes of fighting a mild bout of nausea, relieved that thus far I had not lost the contents of my stomach due to the unfamiliar movement of the ship.
A deep, booming voice called out, “Good day, Bennet, you sorry old soul! Not feeding the fish today? Are you finally getting your sea legs?”
I turned to see the ship’s captain approaching me with a huge grin on his face.
“Excuse me, Captain, were you addressing me?” I asked as the captain stopped alongside me at the rail. I briefly noted this diversion had distracted me from my nausea: a sure relief.
“Yes, Bennet, could you not hear me? Are you getting deaf in your old age?” The captain grinned and spoke in a teasing manner as he clapped a hand on my shoulder. His brown and coarse face crinkled as if it was accustomed to laughing.
“I beg your pardon, Captain, but my name is not Bennet. You may have me mistaken for another.”
“Not Bennet? You are mocking me, sir. I see you have not your walking stick with you, but…” He squinted and leaned towards me, and his eyes ran over my face.
“My word, indeed you are not he!” he said incredulously.
“How strange! You bear an uncanny resemblance to my friend as he looked when we were in Cambridge together.
I had momentarily forgotten his unfortunate injuries of late else I would think you are playing some kind of trick on me!
Bennet now has a bad leg, and he is missing part of his right ear; otherwise you are very nearly his twin!
“Oh, I must beg your forgiveness; my manners have escaped me. We have not been introduced. I am Captain Wood, at your service.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain. I am called Miles, sir.”
The captain laughed. “Mr. Miles, good, good. I am so very sorry to give you so much bother, but you do look shockingly like my dear friend from university, Mr. Thomas Bennet, most recently of Gloucestershire, who is also travelling with us to the colonies. Are you not a distant relation?”
“I am not aware of any relation as you describe. It may be just coincidence.”
“Or twins separated at birth, I say! Mr. Miles, you must give me leave to introduce you to Bennet during the course of this trip. You will then understand the source of my bewilderment, for seeing Bennet will be as if a looking-glass were placed in front of you!”
The captain shook his head and continued jovially, “What confounded mystery drew you to precisely the spot I last saw Bennet? My friend was very ill yesterday and spent the morning relieving himself of his breakfast over the rail where you now stand. He was so weak his wife had to hold him upright. You, sir, are the ghost of his Cambridge past, haunting his sorry seasick side of the ship’s rail!
” The captain barked out a laugh and seemed well pleased with his attempt at a poetic jest. “If you would care to join me for dinner this evening in my private dining room, I would be pleased to make the introductions.”
“I would be happy to do so, Captain,” I said, thinking the captain’s company would be enjoyable and make the long journey to Bermuda seem less tedious.
“Very good, Mr. Miles,” he replied. “I do hope you are not also seasick. If so, I can recommend some remedies you might consider.”
“Thank you. I am just a little nauseous below deck: nothing that fresh air cannot cure.”
“Good. Well then, I shall likely see you walking the decks frequently during rough seas.”
“During calm weather as well, sir, as I enjoy walking when I cannot ride or fence.”
“Would you care to join me while I make my regular rounds?”
“I would be delighted to.” I followed the captain’s brisk stride.
“If you would not mind my asking, what brings you to Bermuda?”
“I have some investments in the timber business that I am interested in developing further. I have a friend who owns a shipyard in England, and I am hoping to make an agreement with him for my cedar. And if I find it agreeable, I would like to call Bermuda home.”
“Any other business interests?” he asked rather briskly.
“If you are asking me about the selling of people for use as free labour, Captain, I abhor the practice. From observation and experience with a prosperous estate, I believe that the servant who is well paid and well treated, and free to leave service should he so desire, becomes a better man, a harder worker, more knowledgeable and more loyal. My estate depends upon people who care for it as I do, and I take pains to make it an enjoyable place to work. I hope I am as good a master as my dear father was and have loyal servants who wish to stay with the estate for many generations. Indeed, the man who is managing the estate in my stead is the son and grandson of my father’s and grandfather’s stewards. ”
“Although I agree with your sentiments, I must caution you to take care of what you speak. The trade of slaves to the Americas feeds many a family in Hamilton, and your opinions would not be welcome in most homes.”
“Thank you for the advice. I shall consider my companion before I speak my views, but I shall not change them, sir. People should not be bought and sold like livestock.”
Although the captain did not respond, his tone suggested his agreement, so there was no need to continue the unpleasant topic.
We walked in silence for a short while as I reflected on the captain’s advice and considered framing possible polite responses regarding something I so abhorred as the slave trade.
It was not long before a windlass drew my attention, and I broke the silence by asking about the design, and to my delight, he launched into a proud description of numerous technical details of this particular vessel until I was called to my cabin by my man.
That evening at dinner with the captain, I quickly developed a familiarity and ease with Thomas Bennet.
He was as jovial as his friend, although he had a hushed and rough voice in contrast to the boom of the captain’s.
He did look a great deal like me excepting small differences in our noses; my hair colour was darker, and I was taller.
He also had an ugly burn scar on one of his ears and walked with a limp.
His young wife was exceptionally beautiful with high cheekbones, fair hair and pale blue eyes that were nearly always hidden by long lashes.
She was exceedingly shy, almost hiding behind her husband and not speaking throughout the entirety of the repast.
Bennet invited me to sit with him the next day. Mrs. Bennet joined us; she assisted her husband to the cabin used as a drawing room as he seemed to have great difficulty breathing and walking. After settling ourselves, my new friend looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“I trust you are well? No one lurking about the halls planning to collect a debt from me?”
I laughed at his inference to our similarity in appearance. Bennet was bound to use humour upon any occasion.
“Beware, Bennet; now that I know of your existence, I might be persuaded to get into some mischief in your stead!”
“Please do not show up in Gloucestershire, sir, as I do not wish you to ruin my good name!” He laughed and then asked more seriously, “So what business takes you to Bermuda?”
I explained my holdings and investments and that I might make Bermuda my permanent home.
“Where will you stay in Hamilton?”
“I plan to stay at the house of a friend until I can find something suitable.” I could not look directly at him whilst I told the falsehood. I would take rooms in an inn and then hoped to find a house for let. I had not time before leaving England to acquire a residence in Hamilton.
“What sorts of property holdings have you on your estate?” Bennet asked.
“It is farming mostly, some grazing and a small parish. My father maintained its prosperity, and as of late, it brings near ￡3,000 a year.” I kept to a simple response. I did not elaborate on my past or my other holdings; perchance some connection might cause secrets to be revealed.
“And have you a family to support?”
“I do. My babies are travelling with me and are below stairs with their nurse. They are all the family I have left in this world. You see, I am in mourning for my dear wife, and I lost my father three years past.” I could feel the tightness in my chest and had to blink back tears.
Bennet was sensible of my discomfort. “I understand your pain, sir, for I lost my own dear parents to a dreadful fire just one year ago. They were also surrogate parents to Mrs. Bennet as she was their ward for more than eight years.”
“I am sorry to hear of your loss, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet.” I paused, and his wife looked at me directly for the first time. I was affected by her gaze, but I soon recovered myself. Turning to her husband, I asked, “So you are also leaving an estate behind?”
“I did inherit a large estate when my dear father died. When I was younger, he had attempted to pass on his knowledge of how to run the property; however, I am not one for taking an active role in managing the lands and holdings. As you see, my health is declining, but in any case, I must admit that I have been a somewhat indolent landlord.”
I did not want to comment on his very frank admission of being a disinterested master, but since he had mentioned his poor health, I asked him about it.
“Thus far, I am fortunate to have stayed on this earth for so long,” he said.
“I was injured in a bad fire, you see, and my lungs have become watery—that is also why I am lame—and I am not able to exert myself.
I am embarrassed to confide that I require help to move about, not due to my lameness but from the lungs.
My wife is burdened as a result; thus, I often keep to my bed.