Page 18 of Lizzie’s Spirit

The child of Mrs. Miller was high in the womb, but the babe tossed about, and the head often was crooked; if the waters broke, mother and child would be in danger of losing their lives.

You must forgive me, for I acted out of compassion and not with the propriety of a gentleman’s daughter.

Following the advice of my book—the Court Midwife, in German, purloined from Papa’s library by mistake—I broke the waters by entering through the woman’s sheaf (how I worried I would perchance injure the child!).

With my hand in the mouth of the womb, I helped the head of the babe into place, and a felicitous delivery followed.

So, dearest Mama, your daughter is now a midwife—though it’s from your strength in facing down Mr. C that I draw my courage.

Benedictus Deus —blessed be to God—that you are my mother and thus my inspiration.

We are now passing between the two forts at the entrance to the Bay of Rio.

I’ll seal this letter to pass to the next packet to England.

Then I’ll ascend to the quarterdeck and gain sweet comfort in attending to Henry and Beth.

Being so distant from my dear sisters and cousins, they are my consolation.

Your loving daughter—Elizabeth

***

Darcy stood on the poop as the Dromedary cleared the Narrows, now restricted to the width of half a mile, and entered Rio de Janeiro harbour, where one of the most magnificent scenes in nature burst upon his eye.

An expanse of water of immense size running back into the heart of a beautiful country to the distance of above thirty miles was bounded by a screen of lofty mountains, expanding from the narrow entrance to the width of twelve or fourteen miles, everywhere studded with innumerable little islands in every diversity of shape—the shores of these islands fringed with shrubs, some of them covered with noble trees, and altogether forming the greatest variety of beauty.

The harbour was large enough to contain the whole of the navy of Britain, and perhaps of the world.

They came to anchor close to the town of St. Sebastian, situated on the western side of the harbour, which, with its numerous churches and spires, added greatly to the handsome view.

In every direction from where the ship lay, he saw convents and noblemen’s houses scattered over the surrounding country, which was also much adorned by fortifications and bridges between the islands.

By the town, there was a good landing place built of stone and also one for taking on water and victualling the visiting ships.

Night fell rapidly at this latitude, and, being evening, the commodore signalled none should leave the vessels until the morning.

The next day, Colonel Macquarie and Commodore Pasco, together with the captains of the Dromedary and Oxford, left to board the Foudroyant 80-gun flagship, to wait on Rear Admiral de Courcy.

Darcy stayed behind to ensure Raimundo was not pressed to remain on the ship.

Although Captain Pritchard was a fair man, he was also commander of a naval ship that was perpetually short-manned.

A bosun’s mate stood near Raimundo, but under Darcy’s protection, there was little he could do to keep the boy aboard.

On shore, they saw Isabella waiting for her betrothed.

She looked so young to Darcy’s eye, probably no more than sixteen years, and Raimundo but eighteen.

Taking the purse, he returned it to the boy, who grasped him in thanks in the Portuguese manner, turned, and ran to his woman.

She took his hand, waved offshore to where Miss Bennet was standing at the taffrail of the Hindostan , and together they ran towards a group of mean huts some way along the shore.

The couple came upon some fishermen who were working on boats dragged up onto the beach opposite the huts.

Raimundo called out to them, his voice carrying across the water to where Darcy was standing.

Women exited the huts and came to the girl; they took her hand and led her away—but it was kindly done.

Raimundo opened his purse to pay a fisherman for the privilege of joining his crew.

He stared at the interior of the purse and withdrew a Spanish sovereign; turning back, he bowed to Darcy, who had placed the coin therein.

Raimundo gave the sovereign to the fisherman, who clapped him on his back and handed him a net; immediately, with a needle and twine he had secured about his person, Raimundo commenced repairing the webbing.

Darcy was well satisfied. The girl, Isabella, whom Miss Bennet and he had rescued from a shortened life of toil, misery, and hardship in the convent, was now free.

The fisherwomen would see her married. Life would, no doubt, be no easier than that of the nunnery, but this was her choice.

He recalled the words of Thomas Jefferson in a letter to James Madison: Malo periculosam, libertatem quam quietam servitutem —I prefer the tumult of liberty to the quiet of servitude .

That evening, after visiting the town, Darcy returned to the landing.

A midshipman from the Dromedary , on shore duty, told him all the officers of the ship and of the regiment were ashore and dinner would be nothing but the crew’s biscuit and salt pork—they had yet to take on fresh rations.

He suggested Darcy attend the Hindostan , as several of its passengers were still aboard and their cook would be preparing a proper dinner.

Having come aboard the Hindostan , Darcy ascended the gangway to the quarterdeck and introduced himself to the officer of the watch, a senior midshipman aged about eighteen years.

“Welcome aboard, sir. May I introduce myself… Midshipman Thomas, officer of the watch.”

“Mr. Darcy, judge-advocate, travelling as a passenger on the Dromedary .” Darcy acknowledged the officer with a bow. “I was hoping to take my dinner with such passengers as remain on the Hindostan; all on my ship are gone ashore.”

“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed a well-known voice.

He turned, and there stood Miss Bennet, her lovely chestnut curls adorning her lightly freckled face, which was haloed by the late afternoon sun.

“I did, by chance, overhear you. Mrs. Bent is poorly and remains below, and Mrs. Pasco has gone ashore with the commodore. ‘Tis a beautiful evening, and I thought to take my dinner here on the quarterdeck, with Mr. Thomas’s permission, of course.”

She gave the midshipman a broad smile. He blushed, and Darcy could see he was already in love with the lady. She continued, “Sir, I believe you come off duty in half an hour. I would be well pleased if both you and Mr. Darcy would take the meal with me.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” the young man replied, scarcely taking his eyes from Miss Bennet, “I’ll send for a table and chairs immediately.” He signalled to a young boy standing near him, who hurried away to obtain the necessary furniture and utensils.

Once seated, Miss Bennet smiled at Darcy.

“I wish to thank you, once again, for your service to Isabella and Raimundo. You were uncommonly generous to add your guineas to my modest contribution. Isabella is a sweet girl—I had much chance to talk with her during our passage from Madeira. She and Raimundo will do well together; they are not afraid of hard work, and she’s of such gentle disposition that all who meet her will love her. ”

“And you, Miss Bennet, seem not afraid of exertion yourself. I’ve heard of your supervising the enceinte women of the regiment. It’s very well done of you.”

Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy with genuine surprise. “I thought that you may not approve of my visiting with the women. As you no doubt know, many are vulgar, and my respectability as a gentlewoman is somewhat in peril by my association with them.”

“I know many of the gentry who would disdain such service, but I’m not one of them.

Christian duty is more than mere acknowledgement of those of lower rank.

Did not our Lord say: But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.

Miss Bennet, you invite these women into your house, just as Jesus taught.

I commend you.” Elizabeth blushed but was saved from replying when the steward came and poured them some wine.

Shortly thereafter, Mr. Thomas joined them: the conversation turned to their journey, the delights and disappointments of Madeira, the Portuguese Regency, what they should see when they arrived at the Cape, and those many topics of which travellers talk when they are relaxed in convivial company.

Darcy was invited to stay overnight, as much accommodation was available with the officers being ashore.

To be a full four and twenty hours in Miss Bennet’s intelligent and lively company was sufficient enticement for Darcy to agree, and he retired well satisfied with his evening.