A Constant Love: A Pride & Prejudice Continuation, page 35
Elizabeth, Darcy, Mrs. Annesley, Mary, and Mr. and Mrs. Bennet made their way into the drawing room, and once Mrs. Bennet had called for Hill to bring some refreshments to the poor, weary travellers, she sat down and immediately said:
“Well, this business with Captain Stanton is very vexing! What if the same happens to Captain Ramsey? What is poor Kitty to do then?”
“Mama, we are at war, and it is the risk of their careers. And I beg you would not speak of it around Georgiana; Captain Stanton was a suitor to her, before this war began, and this topic is very upsetting for her,” Elizabeth said. She did not know if Kitty had expected an outburst like this, or simply wanted to comfort her friend, but either way, she found herself tremendously grateful that her sister had sequestered Georgiana away from the rest of the party.
“Their careers! I suppose Captain Ramsey could stand to earn more in prize money – I should like to see he and Kitty with at least three thousand a year. So I suppose it makes sense that he should have gone to war, although I hope he will not regret it, for Kitty’s sake,” Mrs. Bennet said. “But I understand Captain Stanton already has more than three thousand pounds a year. What more did he need? He should have left the Polonais to the other captains to be captured.”
“Mrs. Bennet, I believe you are not fully comprehending how war works, nor how very large the oceans are,” Mr. Bennet said, finally, for neither Elizabeth nor Darcy could muster a response to their mother’s statement.
“I do have some better news, mama,” Elizabeth said, glancing over at her husband to see he was in agreement with her about distracting Mrs. Bennet with the only good news they had to share, at present. “I am in the family way.”
Mrs. Bennet stared at her daughter for a few moments, so unexpected a turn was this news, before exclaiming: “Well, it is about time! All those months you spent frittering away in town and not producing an heir. You should have begun as early as possible, Lizzy! You never know how many daughters you shall have before you reach a son.”
Elizabeth felt her face burn so hot she was certain she must be a bright shade of pink, and the expression on her husband’s face – some combination of sympathy and embarrassment – was of no assistance.
“Where are those refreshments? Hill!” Mrs. Bennet eventually called out, into the silence that had overcome their party.
The refreshments were produced, and all but perhaps Mrs. Bennet were happy for the distraction that eating and drinking them brought. Into this came Kitty and Georgiana. The latter looked better than she had in the last few days, but still far more thin and wan than a girl her age should. This did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Bennet, who rose, and approached Georgiana. Elizabeth tensed at the thought of how her mother might act, but Mrs. Bennet merely put her arm around the young lady’s shoulders and said, “Oh, you poor thing. Let me have Hill bring you a cup of warm milk. I always say there is nothing like warm milk, for comforting the soul.”
It was a memory from childhood Elizabeth had very nearly forgotten, but with just the mention of it, she could very nearly taste the warm milk on her tongue, and feel the unequalled comfort of a mother’s embrace. Georgiana, who had not known such comforts in a very long while, leaned into Mrs. Bennet and did seem at least a little consoled, and Elizabeth found herself smiling fondly at her mother, for the first time in a very long while.
+++
By the time they reached Curzon Street, the papers were already filled with the news of “gallant Captain Stanton” having arrived in town. There being no mistress at the earl’s residence, the ladies could not make a morning call there, but Darcy went, learned that Captain Stanton was upstairs resting, and stayed about half-an-hour with the earl.
This was the closest any of them came to Captain Stanton during their first three days in town. Georgiana was disappointed, but so long as he was still recovering, she knew that she could have no expectations of seeing him. Elizabeth had an appointment made with an accoucheur physician, and a portrait painter was found, so that she could begin sitting with him. Aside from this, they called only on Lord and Lady Brandon, the Gardiners, and Lady Tonbridge, and kept the knocker off of their door, wishing to wait quietly and keep their presence in town as little-known as possible. If they did not, the regular stream of social engagements would no doubt begin again, and Darcy was adamant that nothing should exhaust Elizabeth while she was with child.
It was on the third day when Captain Stanton’s name began appearing in the gossip pages of all the papers, for he had been a guest of honour at a dinner given by the Duke of Clarence. He appeared again the next day, having dined with the Prince Regent himself, after the promised baronetcy had been bestowed on him. Upon reading that he had been out in society for not one, but two evenings, without coming to call on them, Georgiana began to fear that she was not so important to him as she had hoped to be.
He did call that day, however, well into the morning, all of them in the drawing room, rustling to attention when Mr. Miller announced: “Captain Sir Matthew Stanton, and Captain George Campbell, of the Royal Navy,” for Mr. Miller had been reading the papers as thoroughly as the rest of them, and had a great abhorrence of announcing a guest improperly.
As soon as Georgiana saw him, she felt guilty at having wished he had called earlier. He had always been a tall, handsome, healthy-looking man, but now he looked pale and gaunt, and it took him some time just to make his way into the room, for he seemed to be using his walking stick for support rather more than was proper. Georgiana noted with relief that his arm was intact, although in a sling rather like the one she had worn, and only after she had observed all of this did she pay any notice to Captain Campbell, a slightly stout man of average height, wearing a uniform like Captain Shaw’s and with only a jagged gash across his cheek, heavily stitched, preventing him from having a fully joyous countenance, so that Georgiana realised he must be Lieutenant Campbell, newly promoted.
“Would you do us the honour of introducing us to your friend?” Darcy asked, for although he had been announced, and they knew him from Captain Stanton’s letters, none of them had met the man in society.
“Yes, of course,” Captain Stanton said. “Captain Campbell, this is Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Mrs. Annesley.”
“It is very nice to meet you,” Captain Campbell said. “Although Captain Stanton has told me so much about your family, I feel I already know you all.”
“I feel the same way,” Georgiana said. “And I believe we are to congratulate you on your promotion?”
“You are too kind, Miss Darcy – yes, I was indeed promoted to Commander for the action against the Polonais.”
“As well he should have been,” Captain Stanton said. “He will not say so, but he brought home two ships that had battered each other about most completely, with three hundred angry Frenchmen in the hold of the Polonais. It was as thorough a cause for promotion as ever I have seen.”
“Oh!” Georgiana exclaimed, looking to him. “I do apologise – we also must congratulate you on your baronetcy.”
“Never worry, Miss Darcy, I find I am still adjusting to the notion myself,” he said. “And I in turn will apologise for not calling sooner. My time has not been my own – even today, I could hardly leave my uncle’s house for all the callers. Every distant acquaintance of my own, and my uncle’s, wishes to see me. Captain Campbell was so kind as to help me make my escape – I could not bear any more of it.”
“Are you allowed enough time to recover?”
“Not so much as the physicians and my surgeon, Clerkwell, would like, but I assure you I feel better than I look,” he said. “I would be remiss if I did not say you look very well, Miss Darcy. I hope you are all in health.”
They assured him that they were, and could see that he was right – Georgiana did look very well. Despite his assurances, she still looked at him with a worried eye – they all did – but after months of despondency, much of the humour and lightness seemed to have returned instantly to her countenance, simply with his entrance.
“Might we beg you both to give us an account of the battle?” Darcy asked.
“Of course,” Captain Stanton said. “It would have been a few days after my last letter to Mrs. Darcy. We had another storm, and it blew the blockading squadron off course, and disturbed our own course – it seems the Polonais slipped out of port at that time. We spotted her off the coast, near Lorient. We had the weather-gage, thankfully, so that it was our choice whether to fight her or not.”
“What is the weather-gage?” asked Georgiana.
“My apologies, Miss Darcy, I should have explained it more thoroughly,” he said. “Perhaps you will remember when we went sailing on the Thames, and had to keep tacking, to make our way up the river, because the wind was not blowing in the most favourable direction for us.”
“Yes, I do remember,” Georgiana said.
“Then you may also remember how easy it was for us to return back down the river, for the wind was very nearly behind us, pushing us forward,” he said, waiting for Georgiana to nod her understanding. “Now, if you will, imagine that we were instead two ships, one moving down the river, the other moving up the river. The ship with the more favourable wind is said to have the weather-gage, for she may choose whether to fight the other ship, or decline the battle.”
“Oh – I understand,” Georgiana said.
“I thought you would,” he said, smilingly. “So we were so fortunate as to have the weather-gage on the Polonais, and based on the way she was sailing, it seemed she had a very green crew. Even so, it was not an easy decision, to fight her – in addition to having far more guns than us, her largest guns take thirty-two pound shot, while ours are twenty-four pounders. On many a day, we would have run from a fight with her.”
“What made you choose to fight, then?” Darcy asked.
“The seas were still rough, from the storm,” Captain Stanton said. “In such circumstances, she could not manoeuvre and keep the gunports on her lower deck open, for fear they would flood the ship. The Jupiter is quite manoeuvrable for her size, so if we were able to make it a contest with a good deal of movement, things should be more even. You see, the largest guns are on the lower deck of a ship of the line – with both of our lower gunports closed, it would only be her eighteen-pounders against our twelve-pounders, and although that is hardly even, it is much better odds. My primary reason, though, was knowing our crew to be down to three broadsides in just under six minutes – as you may remember from my last letter, we got in quite a lot of practise, with great improvement. French gunnery has never been good, and I expected it to be much worse with a crew newly out of port, and war just beginning again.”
“His assumption was correct, otherwise neither of us would be here to speak of it,” Captain Campbell said, laughing.
“Yes, and she did maul us horribly as we came at her – even did get her lower gunports open for a little while, before she thought better of it,” Captain Stanton said. “We were well within her range before she was within ours, so that all we could do was keep as many men below decks as possible, and lying down next to their guns, so that they would not be hit by the shot. We pressed on every sail we could, but still, I assure you, it was the longest sea mile of my life. We got in a few shots with our bow chasers, but only cut up a little of her rigging – her ropes.”
“Oh, but we served her out once we were within range,” Captain Campbell said. “She was barely five minutes to a broadside, and when we finally turned to give her ours, we gave her a full broadside, all our guns at once – you can only do that with a young ship, you know – and on the uproll, to see if we could dismast her. It shocked them most prodigiously, and her foremast did come down.”
Georgiana had read both of Captain Stanton’s letters through so many times they had grown thin at the creases, from folding and refolding, and she was glad for it now. She had an idea in her mind of how it looked, what they described, and although she was not sure whether it was accurate, at least it was something to base their account upon.
“Did you keep the carronades?” Georgiana asked.
For her question, she was rewarded with a very particular smile from Captain Stanton. “I did,” he said, then, by way of explanation to the rest of the group: “I changed out our six-pounder long guns on deck for carronades of thirty-six pounds apiece. They are shorter, so the ship can still bear the weight, but not so accurate until you get within close range. Still, I was glad to have them when we did get in close.”
“Indeed, your thirty-six pounder carronade is a true smasher,” Captain Campbell said. “I am not so sure how we would have fared without them, although all of our gun crews were working hot and fast.”
“All of the Jupiters did the ship proud, and the men at their sails did their duty every bit as much as the men at the guns,” Captain Stanton said. “We were able, finally, to cut across her stern, and hit her terribly hard there – we shot away her rudder, so that she could not steer.”
“I thought then we would have her, so long as all of us did our duty,” Captain Campbell said. “We came about and hit her a few times with grape – bundles of smaller shot that break apart when fired – so to clear her decks a little more, for although by now we suspected her to be well below her full complement, she still had far more men than our Jupiter.”
Georgiana paled a little as she comprehended what he had meant about the grape, and clearing the Polonais’s decks; she had of course known that far more men on that ship had been killed than on the Jupiter, but she had not understood how it had happened, or how necessary it was so that Captain Stanton’s ship could win.
Her brother was apparently thinking the same thing, for he said: “I think perhaps that might be sufficient detail on that portion of the engagement, with the ladies present.”
“Of course,” Captain Stanton said. “All you need know of that time is that we knew by now our gunnery was far superior to theirs, which grew even worse as the engagement went on, and with their rudder disabled, they could not manoeuvre. So we waited as long as possible before we ran the Jupiter across her bow and boarded her. From there it was all muskets and pistols, and of course hand-to-hand fighting.”
“Our captain never said a word to anyone,” Captain Campbell said, proudly, nodding to Captain Stanton, “but he had taken a piece of the Polonais’s grape shot to the belly – for they were firing it at us, although not so promptly as we were firing it at them – even before he led us in the boarding.”
“I hardly realised it myself,” Captain Stanton said, looking a bit embarrassed. “In battle, one becomes so focused on the task at hand that only the most critical of injuries may raise themselves to the point of requiring attention.”
“Aye,” Captain Campbell said. “That was clear enough when we boarded, for our captain took a pistol shot to his leg, and still he charged on. Then one of the Frenchies took a wicked cut to his arm – our Amos Brown took care of the frog with – with – nay, that is a detail that I believe Mr. Darcy would wish we pass over. Our captain, he dropped his sword with the hit, but he picks it up with the other hand, and fights on. You must believe what a fire this put in the bellies of all our men – it was over not long after that.”
Georgiana paled again, more deeply this time. She had known Captain Stanton for so long as a rather quiet gentleman that this more martial side of him had always been an abstract idea to her. Of course he had been wounded, but she had not understood it had been in brutal hand-to-hand fighting. He had in all likelihood killed men on the Polonais’s decks, and had been very close to being killed himself. It changed him in her eyes, but not for the negative; she esteemed his bravery, she cherished that he could be so kind to her and still lead a group of men in such a fight.
“When a ship surrenders, she hauls down her colours – takes down her flag – and once she did so, we chased all the French sailors down into the hold, in case they should change their minds,” Captain Stanton said. “Their captain was dead, as was their first lieutenant, and so their second lieutenant gave me his sword, as is the custom. After that, you will have to apply to Captain Campbell, for I do not remember the rest of it.”
“You were awake a little while longer,” Captain Campbell said. “But we were obliged to carry you back to the Jupiter, so old Clerkwell could go to work. Then we began repairs at a rather furious pace – we did not know what other French ships had got out of Brest and might stumble across us, and we certainly were in no shape to fight another ship of the line. Towards the end, what guns the Polonais could bring to bear she had pointed down, as far down as they could go, to try to hole us below the waterline – they meant to sink us – it was their only hope of escaping – and so we had nine feet of water in the hold at the worst of it, the pumps going all the way back to Plymouth.
“I took the Polonais, and Rigby, our second lieutenant, the Jupiter. They were still fitting out ships to go to war there in the harbour, and their crews smoked what had happened at once, for we had our own ensign flying above the French colours, as is tradition when a ship captures a prize, and they all stood along their rails to cheer us. I must admit that up until that point I felt mostly relief, but hearing that swelled my heart as much as anything ever has caused it to swell. I only wish Captain Stanton – I am sorry, Captain Sir Matthew Stanton – had been on deck to hear it.”
“Captain Stanton will always be perfectly suitable to me. Indeed every time someone says Captain Sir, I look around to see who else they might be addressing, for I never expect it to be myself,” said the object of Captain Campbell’s correction.
“You would not tell us that you dislike being made a baronet,” Darcy said. “If so, you may be the first man in the realm to have such sentiments.”
“Not at all,” Captain Stanton said. “I fully appreciate the honour, both for myself and my heirs, and of course for the navy, but I always will take more pride in being Captain Stanton than Sir Matthew, and I find when the two are combined, it creates more awkwardness than I would wish.”
