Page 10 of Lizzie’s Spirit

“’Tis a fine sight, is it not?”

Startled, Darcy turned from the taffrail of the quarterdeck, where he was gazing at the Hindostan , which was anchored some ten chains away, tossing fitfully in the gusting wind. “I beg your pardon?”

“Indeed, sir,” replied Darcy, who was pleasantly engaged in viewing the same lady. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, accompanying Mrs. Bent.” He turned fully to the officer and bowed: “Fitzwilliam Darcy, commissioned as judge-advocate, deputy to Mr. Bent.”

“My cousin, the best of men.”

“Yes, certainly, I was well impressed by him—an exploring officer who works deep behind French lines—an exceptionally hazardous enterprise. Not my cup of tea, I’m afraid.

Though repelling rebellion in New South Wales is unlikely to be as easy as a ride down Rotten Row, heh?

My 73rd of Foot will rout them, and you and the judge-advocate will hang them! ”

Before Darcy could reply, the colonel turned back to gaze at the Hindostan .

“Long journey for an unmarried young woman…” The implication of some associated scandal hung in the air.

Darcy, who well knew the true cause of Miss Bennet’s fleeing from England, wished to quell any gossip before it took root.

“I suspect hers is merely an adventurous spirit. Judge-Advocate Bent is a pious man and would not associate with anyone of less than good moral character.”

He was saved from further speculation when the band, which had assembled on the poop, struck up.

An honour guard of forty men stood on the quarterdeck and presented arms. His Excellency, the Governor Lachlan Macquarie, arrived with all the honour that circumstances would allow—given the strong winds and constant rolling of the ship.

He was received by the colonel, the Guard of the Regiment, Captain Pritchard, and the officers of the Dromedary, who took off their hats.

Captain Pasco, commodore of their small fleet, conducted them aboard with his barge.

Macquarie was a tall, energetic-looking man.

He wore his dress uniform, comprising a military jacket of red face cloth and blue stand collar, gold epaulettes, and regimental brass buttons.

His wife, Mrs. Elizabeth Macquarie, accompanied him.

On the quarterdeck, he renewed his acquaintance with Colonel O’Connell and was introduced to Darcy.

“So pleased to have you come, Mr. Darcy!” he exclaimed.

“I met your superior, Mr. Bent, who is an excellent man, but because of the necessary accommodations for his family, he has been obliged to travel on the Hindostan . I had looked forward to discussing with him the proper application of the law to the rebels now running amok in the colony. But I’m sure your opinion on these matters will equal his.

Excellent! We shall meet at dinner, sir. ”

***

“Mrs. Macquarie, I fear you have endured our company for too long. Perhaps you should retire and leave us to our port and cigars?”

“My dear colonel, of course.” Mrs. Macquarie smiled gracefully at the men gathered around the table. “I am rather tired and will remove to my cabin.” Thereupon she stood, with all present standing with her, and exited the cuddy.

“Gentlemen, I apologise for my wife’s melancholy,” said Macquarie, once they reseated. “We had a sad event only a short while past, and she is afflicted still.”

“Our condolences, sir,” replied O’Connell, “we are apprised of your bereavement. You and your wife have our heartfelt compassion for your loss; you need speak of it no more.

Darcy recalled Macquarie’s daughter, Jane, who, when three months old, had died only six months ago.

Macquarie’s first wife had died of consumption in Macao in ‘96—the child who was her namesake now following.

Her death was a hard blow. Turning to Macquarie, Darcy felt obliged to change the topic of conversation.

“I understand, sir, you are travelling with your cook. By the sumptuous dinner we just consumed, you are certainly justified in retaining her services. I was expecting hardtack and salted pork. But to be served soup, boiled beef, roast duck, curry, asparagus, broccoli, and plum pudding? Surely such cuisine on a naval storeship is unheard of. I’m most impressed she can cook such a fine meal with the rolling of the ship in this sea. ”

“Mr. Darcy, this sea is not at all heavy.” Captain Pritchard was rather affronted.

“It’s only the direction from which the wind blows that prevents our departure.

At the commodore’s pleasure, if the wind abates a little, we may be able to up anchor and beat round the Isle of Wight.

We’re all eager to commence the journey. ”

“I heartily agree! Gentlemen, now that my wife has left us, she not being partial to exotic fare, we can partake of a dessert of almonds and raisins with our port and sherry.” Macquarie nodded to Captain Pritchard, who in turn instructed his midshipman to serve them.

Once the boy exited, Macquarie leant back in his chair.

“We must be careful that what I speak does not become common knowledge, lest our quarry be warned before we arrive at the colony.

My commission as Governor-in-Chief of New South Wales gives me all of those plenipotentiary powers that are expected for such an august position.

But further, on the 14th of this month, I received a private communication from Viscount Castlereagh concerning the immediacy and urgency of my appointment and the despatch of the 73rd Regiment of Foot.

“To cut to the chase, Commodore Bligh, true to expectations, once again provoked mutiny while he was governor. But, notwithstanding the cause, mutiny against His Majesty’s appointed representative can never be justified!

“Major Johnston, the senior officer of the colony at Sydney Cove, at the instigation of certain of the inhabitants and officers, sent a detachment of soldiers under his orders to Government House, placed Commodore Bligh under arrest, and assumed the government of the colony himself. His senior, Lieutenant Colonel Paterson, was at Port Dalrymple in Van Diemen’s Land at the time.

When he received intelligence of the action taken by Major Johnston, Paterson declined to leave Port Dalrymple.

Subsequently, Lieutenant Colonel Foveaux arrived at the colony and also refused to reinstate Bligh, who was still under arrest.

“There it is—I’m instructed by Lord Castlereagh to liberate Commodore Bligh, but to replace him as governor.

The viscount was decidedly particular that due to the circumstances of Bligh’s being deposed and the number of complaints against him, his continuance in the colony could not be countenanced; that he should immediately return to England. ”

Macquarie laughed. “Mayhap sending Bligh, the Bounty Bastard, back to these shores will be more difficult than suppressing the rebellion!”

“And what of Major Johnston and those who abetted him in the rebellion?” Colonel O’Connell had been listening closely to Macquarie; their mission was as he anticipated.

“We shall place Major Johnston in close arrest, to be sent home to be tried for his conduct. I’m also to examine the instigator of the mutiny, Mr. John MacArthur, a prominent settler and former officer in the New South Wales Corps.

If accusations are sworn against him, arrest him and bring him to trial before the courts of the colony. ”

Darcy leant forward in his chair. “Back in ‘03, I met a Mr. MacArthur in London. The man had powerful friends. My father was fond of the man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, and he had the highest opinion of him. But I did not connect that man to the Sydney colony, though he spoke of importing fleece from New South Wales.”

“He sounds like the same man,” said Macquarie, “who, in ‘01, wounded his then commanding officer, Colonel Paterson, in a duel. The very same Patterson who remains cowering at Port Dalrymple.

“Surely MacArthur's trial in the colony would merely yield a victory to MacArthur's interest?”

“But Mr. Bent and you are the judges-advocate,” responded Macquarie emphatically, “it’s up to you to examine this man, hear the sworn testimonies, and pronounce sentence.

I, as governor, will support all you do.

But it’s not I who can pronounce sentence or dispense justice.

Though the governor possesses the powers of an autocrat, English law is its own master, and you, Mr. Darcy, are its liegeman, and I must bow to your authority in these matters. ”

The conversation turned to lighter affairs, and after some hours of pleasant discourse, Darcy returned to his cabin. Later that night, as he lay on his cot, he thought about his coming role in the colony. Could I sentence someone to hang?

Once, Darcy and his brother, Frederick, had discovered George Wickham, his father’s godson, with a thoroughbred stolen from a neighbouring estate.

Rather than expose their father’s association with such an unworthy man, they had merely retrieved the horse, claimed it had been found loose and wandering, and bade Wickham never to inflict himself on the Darcy family again.

If Wickham had been arrested, he would have been hanged for horse stealing.

Did I, Darcy mused, ignore Wickham’s crime because he would most certainly hang, or was it because of the memory of a playmate when we were very young, or was it to preserve the sensibility of my father?

Perchance, in New South Wales, he would discover whether he could sentence a man to death. He found the idea most distressing.

The next morning, the small convoy got underway. The wind becoming fair, Albion’s shores were soon left behind, the Isle of Wight receding until its appearance was a mere cloud in the distance. Afterwards, they took their final departure from the Lizard, being the southernmost point of England.