Two days later, Sergeant Percival was ready to move on.
The entire village turned out to see them leave. There were people of every age. Even the priest came and said a prayer for Dr Hawley’s safe deliverance. Sergeant Percival expressed his thanks and gave him a handful of coins for the poor of the parish, together with the surplus sacks of ground flour. Ever practical, he stored a sack of oatmeal for gruel in the coach, with several loaves of bread, and animal fodder for a couple of days.
Then the children guided them back to the main road, and waved them on their way. Joshua added half the coins in his pocket to the collection. He wished he could offer more, but whatever else he saw on his travels, he knew he would take the memory of those skinny little faces back home with him.
On reaching the valley floor, Sergeant Percival continued until they reached a small town, five miles further. Clean lodgings and better food did much to revive their spirits and aid Dr Hawley’s recovery. Best of all, it enabled Gilbert to find someone to wash their clothes.
After spending a week there, they set off in easy stages towards the Macedonian border. Of necessity, the days of travel were short, a few hours at most. Dr Hawley’s gaunt frame, on which his clothes hung, was a constant reminder of what they endured. His lethargy added to the problem, and fretfulness made even the shortest day seem long.
To relieve the monotony, Joshua and Charlie took turns to read Virgil’s poems about rural life to the convalescent. After a few minutes, Dr Hawley’s attention lapsed, but he seemed to know if they stopped reading.
They talked in whispers for fear of disturbing the tutor’s rest, or gazed through the window, looking at the scenery. After a while, all views looked the same. Joshua knew he should be grateful they were on the move, but it was not enough. More than anything, he wanted a bath, and knew Charlie felt the same.
Gradually, he noticed the land levelling out and the pace of travel increased as they covered more miles in a day. The air was fresher each time they stepped out of the coach, a sign they were nearing the coast. Their spirits rose at the thought of seeing the sea again, almost seven weeks since they left Italy. Where had the time gone?
When they stopped outside the British Embassy in Thessalonica, Sergeant Percival drew Joshua aside as he stepped down from the coach. Tiredness showed in every pore of the man’s face, and not even the thick coating of dust from the road could hide its presence.
“Mr Joshua,” he said, “I’m going to ask if you will take your father’s letter to the ambassador. I doubt if the embassy staff would let someone like me through the door, but they couldn’t refuse you.”
“Me? But I’m a bit… for visiting.” Joshua twitched his nose and indicated the crumpled state of his clothes.
“They’d think nothing of that when you’ve been travelling. Most likely offer you the chance of a bath. The thing is the professor isn’t in a fit state to see anyone, so it’s up to you, sir.”
This was the first time Joshua had taken adult responsibility on the journey. As the soldier said, they were his father’s letters, which was why he and Charlie stood shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting to meet the British Envoy.
When Joshua explained his predicament, the diplomat offered Dr Hawley the services of his personal physician. At the same time, insisting that when the tutor was fit to travel, they must join his entourage en route for Athens. It seemed if they had delayed their journey even by a few days, they would have missed him.
Joshua accepted the offer with alacrity, but when he told his tutor, Dr Hawley said in a peevish tone, “Master Norbery, you must allow me to be the judge of where to go. Surely, you recall me saying two weeks ago that I wished to stay in the city.”
Before Joshua could explain, Sergeant Percival held aloft a sheet of notepaper, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir,” he said. “Squire Norbery has heard of your illness, and he insists we go straight to Athens. That’s why the ambassador offered to take us.”
“I beg your pardon,” Dr Hawley said in a prim tone. “I was unaware… my memory of events is not what it was.”
“That’s all right, sir, I quite understand,” the tour guide said, looking towards Joshua and gently lowering an eyelid.
They never heard another word of complaint.
The baths in the old city were unlike any they had seen before. It was Joshua’s dream come true – a sheer indulgence to find a large room, tiled in marble, with screened alcoves along the walls, containing sunken baths filled with deep, oil-scented water, for each member of the group. There were servants in attendance, and in another room, minions waited to apply oil for massage.
They shed their begrimed clothes and sank down into gloriously warm water, and let the cares of the last few weeks slide away. After the meagre conditions endured whilst travelling, Joshua and Charlie would have been content to wallow all night, but for the invitation to dine with the ambassador’s family. It was a foretaste of what was to come.
Joshua’s political connection opened many doors. By the time they emerged from the water, their miraculously refreshed clothes awaited them in the bedchambers allocated for their use.
When they entered the dining hall, they found tables groaning under the weight of more food than they had seen for several months. Servants hovered around, waiting to serve them with succulent meats and varieties of fish cooked in spices and a dozen different sauces. To their delight, the choice included several varieties of baklava, and exotic fruits. It was a real treat for all.
Whilst the sight of the victuals revived their tutor’s flagging spirits, Joshua and Charlie ate sparingly. They made tiredness their excuse, but in truth, the memory of the hungry children in the mountains blighted their appetites. The difference was too much to comprehend.
Within a week, the physician declared Dr Hawley fit for travel and they were on board a ship, sailing along the coastal route to Athens. On their arrival, the British Embassy staff found them a suite of rooms in a nearby hotel until they hired a villa in the locality.
Letters from home awaited them at the embassy, and they spent the first few days catching up with their correspondence.
Joshua received one each from his father and Aunt Jane. In the first, dated three months ago, he heard that his sister, Caroline, had given birth to a little boy called Master Henry Shettleston. He supposed that meant he was an uncle. It was a strange thought. He had only seen one baby before, the tiny foundling in Hillend village, but he presumed his nephew was larger.
A second item of news related to his brother, Matthew, returning to Linmore from his tour, the thought of which almost made it worthwhile being away from home – but not quite, for he missed it horribly. It seemed a long way away.
Charlie received several letters from Sophie, which filled him with joy, and Joshua could not begrudge his friend the enthusiasm, which bubbled over.
“Hey, Josh,” he said for the third time. “Did I tell you Sophie is at school in Bredenbridge? She is having a marvellous time. Her special friend is the daughter of an industrialist, and the family invited her to stay with them at weekends and holidays.” He chuckled. “You can tell she’s excited. It’s difficult enough to read her writing normally, without cramming so much on the paper.”
Joshua felt quite envious. Compared to that, being a new uncle seemed mundane. He read his letters again in case he missed anything of significance. Yes, Aunt Jane mentioned his father taking her to visit Dr Hawley’s sister on several occasions.
“Listen to this, Josh.” Charlie looked up from the crumpled sheet of notepaper he was reading.
You would never believe it, Charlie. They have so… much… money and eat off gold plates. You should see their jewel boxes, filled to overflowing…
It was more news of Sophie’s friends. If she felt like that now, Joshua hoped she would not think life at Linmore poor by comparison.
Athens – 1799
A year ago, when the French invaded Egypt, the news held Joshua and Charlie’s attention for weeks, but much had happened in the intervening time and they looked at life differently. Every day since their arrival in Athens, they visited the British Embassy. Not to hear news of the war so much as to experience the reassuring normality they felt when they walked through the door.
Outside it was unbearably hot, but within the cool confines of the embassy drawing room, nothing seemed more important than entertaining the English visitors to afternoon tea and specially made scones. They could have been in England, whereas in the city, the Ottoman culture took precedence over Greek.
A mosque stood alongside the Parthenon. People in the streets and bazaars wore Turkish dress, and the air was heavy with aromatic fragrances. When Joshua and Charlie left their lodgings, Sergeant Percival and his assistants escorted them to ensure they were not tempted to enter the shops, which sold strange scented products.
The sea voyage from Thessalonica took its toll on Dr Hawley’s health, so Joshua went with Charlie to present his father’s letter of introduction to the British Ambassador. Once there, he found news of their misfortunes had preceded them, conveyed by the diplomat from Thessalonica.
The welcome he received from Sir Giles Stanmore was particularly warm.
“So you are Tom Norbery’s son and heir. I remember your father and his brother as young men. My family are Salopians as well, and live only a few miles distance from Linmore.”
Joshua noticed the oversight about his seniority, but the moment to repair the error passed without comment.
When they met the ambassador’s wife, they found matters of great significance to gentlemen were of little interest to the ladies. Once they exclaimed at the news, they quickly passed on to other things.
Lady Stanmore was the first to express horror at the events that had overtaken them. “It must have been dreadful; Mr Norbery, to be confined in such conditions, and unable to seek proper attention for Dr Hawley.”
Joshua would not want to do it again, but he tried to make light of the experience. “It was at first, your ladyship, but Sergeant Percival, our tour guide, acquired the services of a herbalist, who provided a remedy that saved Dr Hawley’s life. Without her help, I fear the outcome could have been different.”
A flicker of alarm crossed her face, but her manner remained benign.
“That is excellent news, but these things are fraught with danger, and one hears of some guides who are unreliable.”
Joshua hastened to assure her. “Sergeant Percival is well known to my father, ma’am. I think the risk would have been greater, had he not been with us.”
Sir Giles was not convinced. “That’s as maybe, young man,” he said, “but the area through which you passed is not commonly visited by English travellers. I thought the guide should have ascertained that first, and taken you along the Dalmatian coast. I will write to your father and tell him of this.”
Joshua said nothing, in case he made things worse by admitting the guide used his initiative rather than follow Dr Hawley’s instructions.
In the meantime, Lady Stanmore was eager to move on to things dearer to her heart. “Are you familiar with Almacks Assembly rooms, Mr Norbery?”
“Not personally, ma’am, Mr Cobarne and I were onlookers when my sister was presented at Court two years ago.”
That was near enough without remembering the dates.
“Did she enjoy a successful season?”
He sensed the ambassador’s wife was hanging on his words, but was not sure what she wanted to hear.
“I believe so, ma’am,” he said. “Caroline is now married. So are the two cousins with whom she shared the season.”
From her beatific smile, he had obviously said the right thing.
“How gratifying it must be for their parents. If only we can achieve the same for our daughters,” she said in a wistful tone, and then asked a surprising question. “Did you share the pleasure with her?”
Joshua could hardly tell of the excruciating boredom they felt at the time, but Charlie was willing to elaborate.
“Oh indeed, my lady, there was great excitement in the household,” he said. “It was a veritable whirlwind of daily visits by dressmakers and mantou makers. Almost every day, there were deliveries of bandboxes of every description, and bouquets of flowers by the score. And that was before they saw Queen Charlotte.”
He had everyone’s attention – even if he exaggerated.
Joshua caught Charlie’s eye and was tempted to wink. Then he realised it was a most improper thing to do in the present company – so he did the next best thing, and smiled. That was perfectly acceptable.
By then, Lady Stanmore was speaking again. “The reason I asked, Mr Norbery, is because my husband and I will be returning to London next year, in order for Sir Giles to take up a new post in the Foreign Office. The timing is excellent, for it will enable our two daughters to be presented at Court during the following season.” She hesitated before continuing. “Your arrival is most fortuitous, because we are seeking to prepare them as best we can with lessons in protocol, etiquette and dancing.”
“How can we be of service, ma’am?” said Charlie.
“I wonder if you would care to join their lessons.”
They readily accepted the invitation. It was not as if they felt in need of education, but after the rigours of their journey, it was a joy to mix with people of their own age. To laugh and talk again, and have young ladies consult their opinions on travelling in the hinterland.
When the ambassador’s two daughters saw Charlie, their eyes widened with delight and they started to chatter amongst their group of friends, making plans to include their visitors.
“Mama,” said Miss Eliza Stanmore, the younger daughter, a dainty little miss with fair, curly hair, “Emily asked if it would be in order to invite the gentlemen to our picnic party?”
Her older sister flushed with embarrassment.
When her mother agreed, the young lady turned to address Charlie.
“I’m so glad you have agreed to join our lessons, Mr Cobarne, it is beyond anything to have my brother pretend to kiss one’s hand.”