Page 24 of Lizzie’s Spirit

Elizabeth and Harshita developed a true friendship, despite the difference in their rank and consequence.

Harshita’s little boy, now some four months old, proved an easy charge: to Elizabeth’s relief, he slept each night without waking; he seldom cried; and, seemingly by magic, Harshita knew when to take him to the head.

Harshita, never quite at ease on the quarterdeck, preferred to take her exercise on the upper deck among the regimental wives.

Elizabeth watched with quiet satisfaction as Harshita was at last wholly accepted among them—Indian, Irish, English—drawn together by the unspoken kinship of motherhood.

“Harshita, how fares Mrs. Wilcox?” The woman referred to by Elizabeth was a soldier’s wife who had lost her husband some two months before. She decided to continue her journey to New South Wales; there being naught for her in England but the workhouse.

“She manages, Miss Elizabeth,” replied Harshita, “though she’s bothered by some of the soldiers and should choose soon— for her own sake and to keep the peace.”

“Whatever do you mean? But surely she’s owed a year and a day to grieve. Wouldn’t she be shown every kindness and respect in her mourning?”

“Perhaps for the quality, but a soldier’s wife needs protection. If she takes another husband, the matter is settled, and the men will cease their quarrelling. ‘Tis the way of things in the army.”

Later, while walking on deck, Elizabeth pondered this.

Why did women require protection? She thought it meant promenading with them, safeguarding them from discomforts and dangers whilst walking out.

But it did not! What a sheltered life she had led in Meryton: dining with the same four and twenty genteel families; meeting the same farmers, cottagers, and the merchants in the town; all of them her respected friends.

Here am I, a midwife delivering infants but failing to consider how those children began in the womb.

The begetting , as the Bible said, began with men taking their pleasure—oh, how could she have been so foolish and innocent?

Dame amor, besos sin cuento—g ive me love, kisses without count .

But kisses alone were not what men desired.

Her romantic ideals began to shatter. Men flirted not only for the pleasure of good conversation and convivial company.

Had the Dutch boy at the ball expected more?

As she left the ballroom, she heard him call her a whore .

She blushed at the very idea he thought her easy with her virtue.

Why? Because she wore her hair up, secured with pins and not a cap; because she danced without an introduction—but that was proper, it being a private ball!

Yet the Dutch boys thought her a wanton.

For the first time since boarding the vessel, Elizabeth cast up her accounts.

At dinner, she realised they were flirting with her: Ensign Huey, Colonel O’Connell, and even Mr. Darcy. Did they see her as a young woman without protection, sailing alone to New South Wales—a colony settled by women of easy virtue?

Thus she was of no mind to deal with Ensign Huey’s approach as she stood, some days later, on the poop.

The flaming colours of sunset were just beginning to fade, one bell before supper.

She had made her way there to relax after dealing with a particularly hard labour of one of the regimental wives.

The woman survived, but the babe had not—the first infant Elizabeth had lost. She was disheartened, adrift, and angry at a distant Deity, who seemed not to care.

“In vain have I struggled.” Ensign Huey stood behind her; she swung around at the sound of his voice. He faltered, then continued: “My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire …”

“Mr. Huey!” interrupted Elizabeth, throwing her arms vehemently into the air.

“You are too hasty, sir! Say no more; your address, if that is what you intend, is not welcome. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me, but we have known each other for barely one month. You know me hardly at all.”

He stood staring at her, uncomprehending. Elizabeth did not allow him to continue.

“Enough, it has been a long and tiring day. If you truly respect and admire me, leave me be—I must retire and tend the children. Goodnight, sir. Please tender my apologies to Captain and Mrs. Pasco.” Elizabeth hastily descended from the poop and then down the gangway to her cabin.

Inside, all was quiet. Harshita was asleep, holding her boy snugly to her.

Henry and Beth lay huddled on the cot. Removing her day dress, stockings, and stays, leaving only her chemise, Elizabeth crept in beside them, holding them tight.

They stirred but did not wake, secure in her embrace.

Tears tumbled from her eyes. Ensign Huey was merely a boy, but she hurt him through no ill will on her part.

Tomorrow he would be angry, in poor humour.

Yet they would be in company for another month.

She could not imagine it. Fortunately, she soon fell into a deep slumber.

She awoke the next morning to the ever-present groaning of the ship’s timbers, the thump of the pumps, the slap of the waves against the hull, the whistle of the wind through the rigging, and the stink of damp and rotting wood.

For the living, life would go on. She would mourn the stillborn babe; she would forget Ensign Huey’s ill-chosen address. Time would explain.

Miss Bennet did not say a word at dinner, and Darcy was at a loss to explain it; he determined he would approach her the next time they met on deck.

He felt they had developed a friendship both in Rio de Janeiro and the Cape, and the meals at the captain’s table were most enjoyable.

The previous evening she had been silent, and Ensign Huey sullen.

Colonel O’Connell kept the conversation alive by telling of his time with the 1st West India Regiment, in which he served in Suriname, Grenada, and Dominica.

He arose early, as he knew she did, and ascended to the quarterdeck, where, as he expected, Miss Bennet was standing alone. There being a large swell, it took all of his concentration to walk towards her where she was standing by the taffrail.

“Miss Bennet, I was about to compliment the weather, but that would be a lie—the tempest of last night was appalling. Are the children much afraid?”

She smiled at him, rather wistfully. “No, Mr. Darcy, they grow accustomed to the noise and gyrations of the vessel. I suspect that, once ashore, they will be unable to settle because the floor is not constantly moving beneath them.” She stared out to sea, watching several dolphins lazily keeping pace with the ship.

“I do hope they don’t come any closer, for I’m sure a sailor will attempt to spear them.

My father won’t let whale oil in our house because he believes they are sentient creatures, such as us, and we should learn from them the secrets of the oceans and not kill them solely to light our homes and streets. ”

“Your father’s an unusual man, favouring the creatures of the sea rather than exploiting them.

I hope when you receive letters from home, once we’re safe at Port Jackson, there will be good news of his recovery.

” Once again, Miss Bennet gave Darcy a wistful look.

“Miss Bennet, this may be improper, but you appear out of sorts—is there anything I can do to assist you?”

Miss Bennet turned fully towards him. She seemed to be growing in anger but was clearly trying her utmost to speak with composure.

“I felt, sir, that your attentions to me were based on friendship, but the games played at table between Ensign Huey, Colonel O’Connell, and even yourself, at my expense, show great disrespect.

I may be a single woman, sir, but the constant flirting seeking my attention is not to be borne.

Just yesterday, Ensign Huey declared his admiration for me in a most inappropriate way, accosting me alone on the poop.

I’m under Mr. Bent’s protection—I cannot countenance such ungentlemanly behaviour. ”

She sighed and paused, as if to end the conversation, but then continued: “Pardon me if I offended. My realisation of my position aboard has taken me by surprise. Indeed, I was impressed by your manners, your assisting Isabella and Raimundo, your rescuing my reputation at the ball… but I fear I was misled.” Elizabeth burst into tears, grasped the taffrail to steady herself, and stared once again across the heaving, swollen sea.

Darcy was astonished, and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification.

“You have said quite enough, ma'am. I perfectly comprehend your feelings and now am only ashamed of what you endured. For myself, I’ve never disrespected you. That I misunderstood your manner during the meals is to my dishonour. Such was thoughtless of me. You always appear so capable, so much in command of yourself and your environment. I’m in awe of your capacity to care for Henry and little Beth as your own; of your care and kindness towards the regimental wives; of your willingness to spend a significant part of your fortune to rescue Isabella from a life of drudging misery.

There’s so much more I could say: I admire you, I wish…

” He paused. “But, enough said. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health, that you may regain your equanimity, which gives so much joy and pleasure to those acquainted with you. I will only add, God bless you, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth stood against the rail for some time; perhaps half an hour passed before the force of the wind and chill of the morning air forced her below decks.

Her feelings as she recalled his declaration were scarcely to be defined.

With amazement, she first understood that he admired her: Lizzie Bennet , a young girl fleeing England, all too apt to take on responsibilities beyond her skills and station in society, to climb Table Mountain and descend displaying the utmost lack of propriety.

She had persuaded herself he saw her only as an impertinent Miss, speaking barely tolerable Latin. Oh dear Romeo, I am fortune’s fool !

***

The Hindostan was a poor sailor, and ill-equipped for so long a voyage.

But together the small flotilla moved on.

The Hindostan supplied the Dromedary with rum and cocoa; the Dromedary supplied the Hindostan with coal and lime juice.

On board the Hindostan , Miss Bennet, with the support of Captain Pasco, obliged the women to appear clean and well dressed at the regular parades appointed for them, a practice Colonel Macquarie gladly followed on the Dromedar y.

On the 1st of December, the Dromedary signalled that their sick list was seven and thirty soldiers, together with Captain Pritchard and Mr. Bent.

In his role as commodore, Captain Pasco went on board to see the gentlemen and stayed some four hours until midday.

Their condition, as later related to the passengers on the Hindostan , was very serious.

Both vessels lived on salt provisions, as the sheep and pigs were all consumed.

The enceinte women continued to be transferred to the Hindostan ; the number of children since commencing the journey had increased by ten.

Although she once again added cheer and laughter to their dinner and supper, Darcy could tell Miss Bennet was worn by the constant attention the women and the Bent’s children required.

Rations were in short supply, even water was limited, but by force of her character, she convinced Captain Pasco to maintain full rations for those women in need, even though she herself was now consuming the same as the remainder of the regimental women.

“How can I,” she said, speaking to Darcy as they took a turn on the quarterdeck, “look these women in the eye, cajole them to maintain a semblance of hygiene, feed their children a proper ration and not let their husbands steal it, if I don’t share their hardship?

We women, sir, are made of stern stuff. I shall endure. ”

On the 11th of December, the convoy was within one hundred miles of Governor King’s Island, to the north of Van Diemen’s Land.

Captain Pasco, who had intended to make passage through the straits between Van Diemen’s Land and the mainland of New Holland to the north, abandoned this as the winds were against them.

Both Captain Pritchard and Mr. Bent were again poorly and taken to their cots; the officers remarked that the judge-advocate looked as wan as an ensign on half pay .

Having rounded the southeastern extremity of Van Diemen’s Land, the convoy passed up the coast, and by Christmas Day, the 25th of December, they were some two and forty miles south of Port Jackson.

A feast was set out on the quarterdeck of the Hindostan , and the captain’s party dined with the ship’s officers, those of the regiment, and their wives.

The captain gave the seamen and non-commissioned ranks and their wives an extra allowance of grog with which to celebrate the day.

This indulgence was well bestowed, for though they were merry and jovial, they were perfectly quiet and orderly.

“Miss Bennet,” said Mrs. Pasco, “I’ve not met all of the regimental wives. Can you do me the honour of introducing them?”

Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Pasco. “With pleasure, ma’am.

” The women were seated together at a long table, separate from the men.

Elizabeth stood with Mrs. Pasco and walked beside the table, the women confined to their seats by the benches upon which they sat.

Each turned and was introduced by Elizabeth.

All of the officers’ wives Elizabeth knew by name; each managed a curtsey as best they could.

Mrs. Pasco could not help but notice all gave Miss Bennet the utmost respect and deference.

She, possibly the youngest woman on board the Hindostan , was held in the highest esteem.

On the 28th of December, they made entrance to the heads of Port Jackson, but the wind was blowing a hurricane off all points of the compass, and they could proceed no further.

On the 30th of December, the wind changed, and they weighed anchor, stood up the harbour, and soon after were anchored in Sydney Cove at three o’clock in the afternoon—a voyage of seven months and six days from leaving Land’s End.