The Lost Family

 

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Preface

 

Preface

            The four most clichéd words in the literary would are without a doubt, “Once upon a time.” This sort of a start leads the reader to automatically assume that absolutely every dilemma, major or minor, in the blot will be magically remedied in the blink of an eye by a fairy godmother or some witch or wizard. Stories such as these lead the reader into a sense of security and reality and truth does not always bring to us. These stories present nothing but falsehoods that disregard the human experience and the true stories behind lives.

            Our story shall not begin in such a fashion for if it did, well then, we would have another Cinderella story or Snow White romance to contend with, and where is the reality in any of that? Our story does not take place in an imaginary land with some imaginary castle. Our story is not filled with fictional characters whose plights are trivial and lives are meaningless due to their mythical and purely fabricated natures. Our story does, however, take place in a time nearly forgotten, in a distant place, where the actions of real people like you and I hold real consequences not only for themselves but for those to follow them. 

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The Early Years

The Early Years

            When you are born the illegitimate daughter of a pirate turned favorite of the queen of England herself there are few things you know for absolute certain. One such thing being that your fate is very closely linked to the fate of your father. In the case of Mary Gould she was incredibly lucky that her father not only stayed in the good graces of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth but also was capable of finding it in his heart to acknowledge his rather clandestine family in Cork, Ireland.

            Mary had spent the very early years of her life with her mother in her grandfather’s home. Her grandmother had, from the moment she was conceived, looked down upon her mother. Yet her grandfather had found it within himself to allow his wayward daughter and his young grandchild to stay in the Luddenmore castle. For the first eight years of Mary’s life she had lived there with her mother tucked away out of sight of the public eye and resolutely out of mind.

Even in the cold of winter her days were filled with warmth at Luddenmore. Alice, her mother, had done nothing but keep her in the best of spirits never allowing her for a single moment to doubt the love that she had for her. She filled her days with games and in the warmth of the spring and summer she allowed for all sorts of exploring the hills and the vast expanse of rich land that surrounded the castle. Then when the sun would set and the sky did fill with thousands of twinkling stars above them Alice would tell Mary of the many adventures her piratical father undoubtedly was upon, and through these tales of her brave father Mary knew that although he could not go to see her and her mother he did love them very much or at the very least cared for them in such a way that her mother would receive letters every now and again detailing his great adventures and providing Alice some reassurance that he had not forgotten her or their daughter and for this Mary knew her mother was forever thankful.

It took years for Alice to actually tell Mary who the letters were coming from, and the only reason she even eventually did tell Mary was because the young girl had confessed to catching sight of the wax seal upon the parchment. The red wax was stamped with five diamonds spread diagonally across the shield creating a beautiful pattern in the wax that had intrigued Mary upon first seeing it. She had asked her mother about the importance of the letter.

Alice looked upon her incredulous child and knowing that curiosity would soon get the better of the small child she sat down and spoke gently to the girl of five years in front of her, “Mary, I have told thee of thy father’s great many adventures, have I not?”

“Yes, Mother,” the child replied she too was now sitting. Her stocking clad feet tucked under her white petticoats and green skirts a small cloth doll lay in her lap with a beautiful yarn braid upon its delicately embroidered head. Her excitement was truly getting the better of the poor girl and her eyes glistened in the soft candlelight of her grandfather’s library.

“Ah, but have I told thee, Mary, of your father’s part in keeping Ireland safe the year you were born?” Mary shook her head curiosity had proven to capture the better of her and now without the story having progressed far at all she sat enraptured by her mother’s words.  Alice told Mary of the dreadful years of rebellion lead by Lord Desmond and how Queen Elizabeth had sent some of her bravest men to help keep the innocents safe while ending the rebellion that did threaten the safety of her glorious reign. Her mother told her of how James FitzGerald had not only labeled the Queen a heretic but had insisted that because of her excommunication from the Catholic Church that Irish Catholics had no legal obligation to follow the heretic queen. Her Majesty did, of course, send her armies to the island where they did defeat the rebels.

            This was the first time Alice ever mentioned his name. Mary remembered the look upon her mother’s face when she finally said the name “Raleigh” it was a name that Mary knew her mother had not allowed herself to think of saying let alone actually say in years.

Upon knowing this precious information Mary retired to her room that night to ponder, as much as a child of five could, over the new found information, and as she sat in bed that night she whispered her musings to her small cloth doll.

“Mother says he’s a pirate, Liza. He must be brave to sail as a pirate for Her Majesty. She did love him. She had to. I’m sure he is tall. He is probably the tallest man at court. I am certain he must have fought dozens of horrid people. Enemies to her Majesty perhaps!” Mary was giddy with the mere thought that her father was possibly out in the world right now fending off all sorts of villains keeping England as well as Ireland safe from such treacherous beings. That night Mary fell fast asleep to dream of all the adventures her mother had told her of.

That was not the last time Mary would ask her mother about Sir Walter Raleigh, her father, over the next year Alice would tell her daughter nearly every memory she cherished with the man who Mary would come to call father. And while Mary thought of all the dangers that faced her father all the enemy pirates, the Spanish crown, the frightening and unpredictable weather of the sea she did not know that the real danger was lurking in the Irish air ready to silently strike even the strongest of souls. Alice would only be with her daughter for another two years barely seeing her to her seventh birthday before she would succumb to plague leaving young Mary without a mother and with only herself and the kindness of a man she had only ever known of through the stories of her mother to rely on.

Now Mary, a girl of nine years, would have to make her way in a strange new world where the rules of the society she had spent the entirety of her life no longer applied. She would have to step forth in a world where her existence and happiness relied almost solely upon the deeds of her formerly estranged father.

 

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Spring 1589

Spring 1589

            Mary stood on the dock in Youghal, Ireland the house she had known for the past two years and had come to call her home was now behind her. She had gone from room to room as her father took time to ensure that all of their belongings were safely on their way to the ship. This house had become Mary’s home shortly after her mother had succumbed to plague. She had been left nearly orphaned when her father had as if by some force of magic appeared upon the steps of Luddenmore castle. He had received news of Alice’s death and upon receiving such melancholy tidings had taken it upon himself to collect their daughter. She was only seven at the time and her memory of the day was tinged with sadness still fresh from her loss. That day was both the saddest and happiest Mary had ever felt and it was in her short life only the second farewell she would have to say. Now, today, she was making her third farewell this time to the home where she found new happiness and the country she had always called her home.

Unable to look out upon the sea Mary stood facing Ireland, her home, feet firmly planted upon the wood of the dock her back towards the English ship that would carry her away from her island and to the bustling liveliness of London. Her fate was now more clearly linked to her father’s. If Sir Walter Raleigh succeeded surely his bastard daughter would easily walk among the gorgeous gowned women of the court. Surely if her father was the favorite of Queen Elizabeth her prospects were more clearly aligned. Surely she would not be forgotten.

“Mary, tis nearly time for the ship to leave. You are going to wish to be upon the deck before we leave harbor,” her father said as he walked briskly towards the ship that would carry them to England and up the Thames to London.

“Aye, Father. I will be but a moment, I promise,” Mary replied never taking her eyes off of the green Irish coast for even a moment.

“Very well. I shall see thee upon the ship.” With that her father continued on his way to the vessel.

In her last moments upon Irish ground Mary closed her eyes. Her long black curls, neatly pinned away moved lightly in the breeze. The taffeta of her brown and green gown rustled quietly in that breeze, that cool Irish breeze and Mary breathed in the fresh country air. She raised her gloved fingers to her lips and sent her Ireland a farewell kiss upon the wind before turning on her heel to join her father on the vessel that would carry her far from the home she loved.  

As she stood upon the deck of the English ship Mary remembered how her mother would look into her deep blue eyes and tell her that the sea was a part of her. How it was an extension of her spirit and how it would always connect her and her father.  Now, standing upon the ship as it moved gently up and down with the waves Mary understood what her mother had always meant. She would always have another home where the sea was, and Alice had been right. In the mere minutes Mary had stood upon the deck thus far she felt more at home than she did in the two years she had lived in Youghal. This was where she was meant to be. This was where her spirit would lead her and upon this ship Mary would embark upon an adventure of a lifetime. She would leave the land she called her home and make home in the busy city of London.

            “Is it not wonderful? The sea is a great mystery and a beautiful lady to know,” her father said as he came to stand beside her.

            Mary glanced up at him and smiled. “Aye, tis wonderful. Tis also rather different than the land which I am so accustomed to.”

            Raleigh chuckled a moment and looked upon his daughter, “Thou shall gain thy sea legs as soon as we embark. A ship in port and a ship upon the open seas are two completely different beasts to contend with.”

            Soon, Mary found that he had been right. The sea was like a second home to her. She found that as the ship moved toward her future her life would begin anew.

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