“Do you think it’s the Germans?” Edith’s face had grown so pale that her freckles jumped out in contrast. Her Irish lilt was stronger than usual.
A German air raid on Great Yarmouth a month before had caused much anxiety in the weeks that followed, but we had settled back into complacency, trusting that the Royal Navy was patrolling these waters. Had the Germans decided to attack again?
“I must get dressed and find out.” The bombing continued, growing louder.
Edith shook as she helped me dress. I didn’t take any time with my hair, leaving it in its braid so I could go downstairs and speak to Wentworth.
“Will they bomb Cumberland Hall?” Edith asked as we rushed out of my bedchamber and down the corridor to the stairway.
“I don’t know.” We were so close to the edge of the sea that we’d be a prime target. I prayed with all my might that we would be spared.
Mr. Wentworth met us on the stairs, where the carpenter’s tools had been abandoned.
“Lady Cumberland,” he said, his usually calm and cool demeanor filled with apprehension, “we must get to safety belowstairs. A runner was just here, warning everyone on the coast. The Germans have raided Scarborough and Hartlepool, and they are on their way to Whitby. There were at least six German ships spotted, but there could be more.”
“Where is the British Navy?” I asked as I followed Wentworth down the stairway and through the great hall to the servant’s stairs.
“I don’t know, your ladyship, but they must be out there somewhere.”
Edith followed close at my heels. It wasn’t even ten in the morning.
The staff was in chaos as we entered the central hall in thebasement. I had been down here only twice since I’d moved into Cumberland Hall and was not as familiar with the space as I was the rest of the house.
“This way, your ladyship,” Wentworth said, and I followed him and the others into a crowded storage space in the back corner of the manor. My trunks and bags had been placed here with the antiquated luggage of the Fairhaven family. “This is the safest room in the house. It’s under the conservatory, farthest away from shore.”
There were no windows in this room, and the gaslights were dim. All thirteen of us crowded there together, no one speaking, as the bombs continued to blast nearby. Thankfully the sound was muted, but there was no mistaking the noise of destruction.
“Let us pray,” I said to my staff. I didn’t know any of them well except for Mr. Wentworth and Mrs. Chadburn, but I was their mistress, and it was up to me to keep them calm.
Everyone lowered their eyes and clutched their hands together.
I led them in prayer, asking for God to spare us and our neighbors along the coast. I prayed for protection, for peace, and for victory in this war that had already drug on for four long months. What I knew from Mama was that this war would last until November of 1918—four more daunting years. Privately, I thanked God that I would not have to endure such a thing—and prayed for those here who would.
The lights went out, and we were cast into complete darkness.
Someone screamed, another began to weep, and soon others were mumbling their own frenzied prayers.
I closed my eyes as I clung to Edith, praying like I had never prayed before.
The bombardment ended as suddenly as it had begun, but we stayed in the storage room much longer. Finally, about thirty minutes after it ended, Mr. Wentworth offered to see if there had been any damage and to ascertain the continued threat. He found us several candles, which we lit as we waited.
Edith still sat next to me. She was drawing just as much strength from me as I was from her. What would I do without her? It was a constant worry. What if she chose to return to New York? Now that she was my employee, I would gladly give her a glowing recommendation if she wanted to find employment elsewhere, though I prayed she did not. But with an active war and constant threats, I could not blame her if she did.
Another thirty minutes passed as we waited in the cold, dark room for Mr. Wentworth to return. My back ached from sitting on a hard trunk, but I tried to keep up morale by asking the maids to tell me about their lives before coming to Cumberland Hall.
When Wentworth finally did return, he let out a full breath. “It appears the threat has passed. You may all return to your duties.”
The staff slowly left the storage room, talking quietly amongst themselves as they went. I thanked each of them, trying to reassure them, but I wasn’t sure how I could encourage them when I wasn’t certain what we were facing.
“Is there any damage to Cumberland Hall?” I asked Wentworth.
“None that I can see.”
I pressed a hand to my heart. “Good.” I was surprised at how much I meant it. I did not wish to see any harm come to this grand home.
I followed Wentworth back up the stairs and into the great hall. The storm continued to rage outside, but all looked as it had before.
“Where are the carpenters?” I asked.
