T he servants!
Elizabeth bolted from her room, bag in hand, her heart racing as she ran down the hall towards the servants’ quarters, which were near the kitchens.
“Wake up! Fire!” She ran from room to room, pounding on the closed doors.
“What on earth?” Mrs. Batson, the housekeeper, sleepily poked her head out of her room, nightcap askew. “Miss Lizzy? What is going on, child?”
“There is no time to delay,” Elizabeth said, her voice steady despite the chaos churning in in her mind. “The docks appear to be on fire, and the wind is blowing the flames towards us. We must all leave—immediately!”
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hallway as other servants began to emerge, their expressions a mix of confusion and alarm.
Elizabeth turned to face the growing group, her tone calm but commanding. “Gather only what you can carry—valuables, warm clothing, and nothing more. The Gardiners and I will be leaving within minutes, but I understand if any of you wish to seek out your loved ones instead. No one will be punished for abandoning their posts.”
One of the footmen hesitated, his brow furrowed. “Miss Bennet, my brother is on the night shift at the docks. If the fire started there…”
“I know,” Elizabeth interrupted gently, meeting his worried gaze. “You must do what you feel is right. But be careful—these streets will soon be crowded, and it will be much more dangerous for those on their own. If you choose to stay with us, we will do all we can to keep you safe, but I cannot make any promises about anything.”
Mrs. Batson straightened her cap, determination lighting her face. “I will come with you, miss. Someone will need to help Nurse keep the little ones calm.”
Others nodded, clutching bags or hastily dressing. A few cast lingering looks back toward the servants’ stairwell, as though still weighing their decisions. Elizabeth offered each of them a brief, encouraging nod.
“Five minutes,” she said firmly. “Be ready, and meet us at the front door.”
As the group dispersed, Elizabeth’s heart pounded with the weight of the choices being made around her. There was no time for regret, only resolve. With a last glance toward the servants’ rooms, she turned and hurried back upstairs to help her family.
She met Mrs. Gardiner coming down from the second floor towards the front, a firm expression on her face and a satchel in her hand. “Put your bag at the door, Elizabeth, then come help me with the children.”
Obediently, Elizabeth practically tossed her bag into the entryway before racing up the stairs after her aunt to the third floor. The scent of smoke was now much heavier, and Elizabeth knew that everyone could most likely smell it by now.
Nurse was already quite busy in the children’s room, gathering blankets and coaxing the younger children awake. Elizabeth stepped in to help, gently shaking her oldest cousin’s shoulder. “Come now, darling, you must wake up. We need to leave.”
Eleven-year-old Beth blinked sleepily and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “What is happening, Cousin Lizzy?”
Elizabeth forced a calm smile, brushing a stray curl from Beth’s forehead. “We are going on an adventure, my love… but we must hurry. Can you be a brave girl for me?”
Beth nodded, still too drowsy to grasp the gravity of the situation. Together, Elizabeth, Mrs. Gardiner, and Nurse hastily dressed the children, bundling them in whatever layers were in reach. Although it was summer, the nights could grow chilly with the humidity and wind. Two-year-old baby Alexander whimpered as Elizabeth scooped him up, his small fists clutching at her gown.
“I think that’s everything,” Mrs. Gardiner said, casting a quick glance around the room. “We should go before the smoke thickens.”
With the children in tow and a few bags with them, the two women made their way back down the stairs. The murmur of voices grew louder as they neared the front hall, where Mr. Gardiner was organizing the handful of remaining servants into a small group, lantern in hand.
“Everyone is ready?” he asked briskly, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group.
“Yes,” Mrs. Gardiner confirmed, shifting four-year-old Christopher in her arms. “Elizabeth and I have the two youngest children. Nurse, can you manage Jacob? Stay close, Beth.”
Nurse nodded and gripped the eight-year-old boy’s hand tightly. Mrs. Batson stepped forward. “I can watch Beth.”
Mrs. Gardiner gave the housekeeper a grateful nod. “Thank you,” she said fervently. Looking around at the group, she turned to her husband. “Shall we go?”
Mr. Gardiner nodded. He raised his voice and addressed the crowd. “Stay close together, everyone, and keep moving. We will head toward the river first, south of the docks, and see if the bridge there is passable. The other side of the water is the only way to guarantee the fire cannot reach us.”
Elizabeth tightened her grip on the baby, steeling herself for the chaos awaiting them. As they stepped onto the street, it was like entering another world, one that had been ripped from the pages of Revelation. The orderly rows of houses were shrouded in an eerie glow, the orange light from the docks flickering like some malevolent force.
Now outside, the smell of smoke was overpowering. The air, sharp with ash, scratched at Elizabeth’s throat, and she forced back the urge to cough as the group moved cautiously down the steps and out into the street.
“Maybe we should fetch the carriage,” a footman yelled above the noise from scores of people running to and fro, their cries of terror echoing off the walls of the closely-built houses lining the roadway.
Mr. Gardiner shook his head firmly. “It is too late for that. The streets are crowded, and the horses will be spooked by the smoke and commotion. We will make better progress on foot.”
“But the children—” Mrs. Batson began, clutching Beth’s hand tightly.
“We will carry them on our backs if we must,” Elizabeth interrupted, grateful her voice held steady. “Mr. Gardiner is correct; we must be able to maneuver easily through the crowds.”
“Now, stay close together,” Mr. Gardiner’s expression was grim but resolute. “Watch your step and each. No one gets left behind, understood?”
Everyone nodded, and the group pressed forward into the hordes of panicked Londoners. They forced their way southwest, towards the river but further from the docks. Lord, let us reach the bridge quickly , Elizabeth prayed fervently.
In spite of their progress, the heat in the air grew more oppressive with each passing moment. The distant crackle of flames was becoming a steady roar, punctuated by the occasional crash of collapsing buildings. Elizabeth forced herself to focus on the path head, her throat aching from the smoke as she held Alexander tightly to her chest.
The pandemonium around them increased, with people darting out of alleys, clutching bundles of possessions, some with tears streaming down soot-streaked faces. A man barreled past, nearly knocking over one of the maids, and Elizabeth reached out to steady her.
“Keep moving,” she urged, her voice loud enough to carry but calm enough to reassure. “The more distance we put between us and the fire, the safer we will be.”
They turned down a narrow alleyway, using a route that normally Elizabeth would never have dared in the daytime, let alone the wee hours of the morning. It significantly decreased the distance between them and the bridge, however, and there were fewer people along that route.
Eventually the alleyway ended, expelling the weary band of refugees onto the main room. They only made it a half-dozen yards when it became clear that there was no way to continue on. The street was jam packed with hundred—if not thousands—of people, shoving their way towards the river.
“What is going on?” Mrs. Gardiner cried to her husband, who just shook his head and looked around in dismay.
Elizabeth spied a stone bench near one of the buildings, and she ran over to step on top of it. Although she was not tall herself, the added height allowed her to see over the heads of the panicking, unruly mob.
Her heart sank.
In front of her, the frantic masses were surging forward towards the bridge. The cries of children and shouts of soldiers who were attempting to maintain the peace blended into one loud cacophony. The bridge looked ahead, its entrance choked with bodies, wagons, and discarded belongings.
There is no escape .
Thinking quickly, she jumped down from the bridge and urgently sprinted back to the Gardiner group, where Mr. Gardiner was looking at her anxiously.
“We cannot get through here,” she shouted, trying to be heard above the din. “It is impossible. There are too many people.”
“We must,” Mr. Gardiner replied, his voice strained. “If we can just reach the other side—”
“We will be trampled before we set foot on the bridge,” Elizabeth said sharply. “That, or we will burn to death because the fire will catch up long before it will be our turn.”
“But—”
“Look at them!” she shouted, gesturing towards the bottleneck, where the crowd had devolved into shoving and shouting. “We will have to find another way.”
She spun around to look behind them, thinking frantically as her mind raced with possibilities. “The parks!” she shouted, pointing northwest. “We can go to Hyde Park. There is open space, and it is far enough away from the docks to be safe.”
Mrs. Gardiner glanced nervously toward the glowing sky. “But the fire—if it spreads…”
“It will not,” Elizabeth assured with more confidence than she actually felt. “We can take some of the back roads and get there more quickly than we could through this crowd. Uncle, please.”
Mr. Gardiner took a deep breath and looked around, assessing the situation before nodding. “Very well. Everyone, follow Elizabeth.”
She pulled Alexander tightly against her, and the boy burrowed his face into her neck. They turned away from the river and went back through the same alleyway they had come down.
“That way, miss!” shouted a footman. She glanced behind her and saw him pointing ahead where another alley jutted out to the left. “It is a shortcut I use all the time.”
They turned as one and followed along the narrow path. Smoke curled between the buildings, and Elizabeth fought back the panic rising in her chest. What if the fire catches up to us? What if the buildings collapse? It is so narrow here. Where are we, even?
But all she could do was press forward; there was no turning back.
At long last, they once again arrived on a main street, and she sighed in relief upon recognizing the main road that would lead them to the wealthier part of town: Mayfair, Hyde Park, and Westminster were always easily found if they just continued straight ahead.
The path westward had fewer people, but it was no less fraught with challenges. Even though it was further from the fires, word had quickly spread through the city, turning it into a type of war zone. The streets were littered with debris—overturned carts, barrels of wares, and even a few horses had been abandoned in haste.
At one point, they passed a group of laborers attempting to haul a water cart toward the docks. The men’s faces were streaked with soot, their shouts barely audible over the din. Elizabeth’s heart ached for their futile efforts; she knew the docks would be gone long before they reached them.
The two elder Gardiner children stumbled here and there, their small feet catching on the uneven cobblestones, but Nurse and Mrs. Batson held their hands tightly, and Mrs. Gardiner whispered soft, encouraging words to keep them moving along.
Elizabeth’s arms were burning from the weight of her cousin in her arms, but she refused to pass him on. The young boy had clamped himself around her and would not be separated, not even for his father. Christopher had become too heavy for Mrs. Gardiner, so he rode now on the back of one of the stronger footmen.
Just when she thought she would not be able to take one more step, she raised her eyes and saw the large trees of Hyde Park in the distance. “We are almost there!” she shouted in relief. “Not much longer till Mayfair, and the park is just beyond that.”
“Aye, and the rich toffs will not let their houses burn none, now will they?” said a footman with a wry grin.
“They will do all they can to prevent it,” Elizabeth replied, “except extinguish the flames themselves.”
The group laughed perhaps a bit too heartily at this small jest, but it served its purpose in raising their spirits. They walked along with more vigor, and Elizabeth became so engrossed in the tales the servants were sharing that she nearly walked into a person who suddenly appeared in front of her.
“Oh, my apologies!” she began, but any further words died on her lips when she saw that the individual she had nearly trampled was a young woman of about sixteen years of age, holding an infant in her arms. Her body trembled with indecision as she stared towards the east, the advancing flames reflecting in her large, vacant eyes.
Without hesitation, Elizabeth shifted Alexander into one arm and extended the other to the girl. “Come with us.”
The girl just shook her head. “I… I cannot. He said…”
“Yes, you can,” Elizabeth insisted, placing a steady hand on the girl’s shoulder and guiding her along. “Follow me. I will carry your baby if it makes it easier.”
The girl hesitated, but something in Elizabeth’s tone seemed to cut through her panic. She nodded shakily and handed over the infant into Elizabeth’s empty arm.
With a child on each side, Elizabeth’s steps began to slow. Mrs. Gardiner rushed forward. “Let me take one of them,” she insisted.
Elizabeth attempted to hand Alexander to his mother, but he began to wail and fight. “Izzy! Izzy!” he sobbed, clinging to her neck.
The infant had a similar reaction, and Mr. Gardiner said, “We will waste more time trying to fight them than to allow them to remain with Lizzy. We should just keep going.”
Fortunately, they had arrived at the edges of Mayfair, and Hyde Park was only about a half mile ahead. By the time they reached the lawn, Elizabeth’s legs burned with exertion, and her lungs felt raw from the smoke. Relief washed over her as she saw the open expanse of nature spread out before them. The early morning sun cast long, distorted shadows that flickered as the rays passed through the curling smoke of the fire in the distance.
The park was crowded with others who had had the same idea as Elizabeth. Families seeking refuge huddled together with what little they had managed to carry. Mr. Gardiner led his group to a quiet corner. A few blankets were laid out, and Elizabeth sank gratefully to the ground.
“Come, Alexander, lie down here,” she urged. “I will sit right next to you as we take a rest on the grass. There, is that not nice?”
She attempted to hand the babe back to the girl, who shook her head. “Oh, no, miss. It is not mine.”
“Excuse me?” she gaped.
“He’s my neighbor’s, but she left when she saw the flames.”
Elizabeth froze at the girl’s casual remark. “You mean to tell me this baby does not belong to you? What is your name? How did you come by him?”
“I’m Meg.” The girl shrugged into her tattered shawl. “No, miss. Deena—that’s my neighbor—she shoved it at me when she saw the flames. Said she’d be back. But she never came, and I didn’t see the point in looking for her.”
Elizabeth’s stomach churned. “But you carried the child all this way. Surely you—”
“Don’t get me wrong, miss,” Meg interrupted with a tired smirk. “I don’t mind a bit of kindness here and there, but I’m no mother. Best to leave the little thing at a workhouse. They’ll sort it out.”
Elizabeth stared, aghast. “You mean to abandon an innocent baby?”
“Better than dragging it into my life,” Meg said with another shrug. “What’d you have me do? Raise it in the gutter? The workhouse is where it’ll end up either way.”
“But surely the father—?”
Meg shook her head vehemently. “Well, it’s not like Deena knew who he was, did she? There’ve been too many men to count.”
As Elizabeth gaped at the girl, she noticed for the first time the inappropriateness of her clothing. Even for nighttime, the low neckline and threadbare hem of her dress seemed out of place. The realization struck Elizabeth like a blow—this girl was no servant or maid.
She is a woman of the night!
Before Elizabeth could say anything, a rough voice called out, cutting through the chaos around them. “Meg! Oi, there you are!”
Elizabeth turned sharply to see a burly man storming toward them, his face smeared with soot and his expression a mixture of anger and relief. Meg stiffened at his approach, but she rose to her feet to meet him.
“What’re you doing here?” the man barked, grabbing Meg’s arm roughly. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I was trying to find Deena,” Meg mumbled, her gaze dropping to the ground.
“Deena?” the man snorted derisively. “She’s dead. Saw a beam fall on her myself—snapped her neck clean.”
Meg blinked, her expression unmoving. “Oh.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock. “She’s dead, and that’s all you can say?”
The man’s eyes flicked to Elizabeth, narrowing. “Who’s this, then? Someone nosing where she don’t belong?”
“I am someone who believes this young woman does not have to go with you,” Elizabeth said firmly, her chin lifting.
Meg turned to Elizabeth with a wry smile. “Don’t waste your breath, miss. He’s better than being stuck scrubbing pots in some fine house. I’d rather stick with what I know.”
“But you could do better,” Elizabeth insisted.
Meg shook her head. “Better?” She gave a hollow laugh. “Better don’t exist for the likes of us. Come on, Sam.”
The man grunted in approval and grabbed Meg’s arm again, steering her away. Elizabeth took a step forward, calling after her. “What about the baby?”
Meg paused, looking back with a tired expression. “Not mine, miss, remember? I’ve done my bit. He’s your problem now.”
And with that, she was gone, swallowed into the crowd with the man.
Elizabeth stood frozen, the baby cradled in her arms, its small whimpers breaking her stunned silence. Mrs. Gardiner came over, staring at the spot where the two strangers had disappeared. “What on earth happened, Lizzy?”
Shaking her head slowly, Elizabeth peered down at the motherless baby. “I have absolutely no idea. His mother abandoned him to Meg— the girl who followed us— when the fire started.” She paused, her voice cracking. “And then Deena—the mother—I think they are both…” her voice dropped to a whisper… “prostitutes.”
“Is she coming back?”
“I do not think so.” She blinked away a tear. “She went with… the man who owns her, I guess? She did not want to stay, and she told me to take the babe to a workhouse or something.”
Mrs. Gardiner’s face softened as she reached out to the bundle Elizabeth held. “We will see to him,” she said firmly. She pulled back the blanket covering his face and gasped. “Why, this little mite cannot be more than a few months old!”
“How are we going to feed him?” Elizabeth asked, heart sinking.
“We will figure something out,” Mrs. Gardiner said firmly. “We will not leave him to fend for himself. Half of babies born die as it is.”
Elizabeth glanced down at the infant, her heart aching as his tiny fist curled around her finger. “No,” she whispered. “We will not.”